THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  scolastiqne  dans  les  Pays-Bas  et  la  Prin- 
cipautS  de  Liege.  (Louvain,  et  Alcan,  Paris,  1895.)  (Memoire 
couronne  par  I'Academie  de  Belgique.)  404  p.   Epuise. 

*Etudes   sitr   Henri  de   Gand.     (Louvain,  et  Alcan,  Paris,   1895.) 
Extrait  du  precedent.    Prix:  2.50 fr, 

*Le  traits  des  formes  de  Gilles  de  Lessines.    (Texte  inedit  et  etude.) 
1901.    xvi,  122,  108  p.,  gr.  in-jesus,  edit,  de  luxe. 

Introduction  a  la  philosophie  neo-scolastique.  1904.  xvi,  350  p. 
Epuise. 

Scholasticism  Old  and  Neio.  Translated  by  P.  Coffey  (Dublin,  1907). 
328  p. 

*Etude  sur  la  vie,  les  osuvres  et  Vinfliience  de  Godejroid  de  Fontaines. 
(Memoire  couronne  par  I'Academie  de  Belgique.)    1904. 

Les  quatre  premiers  qiiodlibets  de  G.  de  Fontaines.  (En  collaborat. 
avec  A.  Pelzer).   364  p.,  grand  in-jesus,  edit,  de  luxe. 

Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  en  Belgique.    (Louvain,  et  Alvan,  Paris, 

1910.)   xii,  378  p.,  18  gravures  hors  texte. 
*Histoire  de  la  Philosophie  medievale.    (Louvain,  1912.)  5'eme  edit, 
frangaise  sous  presse.    English  translation  by  P.  Coffey  (Long- 
mans, 1909);  German  translation  by  R.  Eisler  (Tubingen,  1913); 
Italian  translation  bj^  A.  Baldi  (Firenze,  1913), 

*Les  Quodlibets  V-VII  de  Godejroid  de  Fontaines,    (Textes  inedits.) 
(En  collaboration  avec  J.  Hofman.)    (Louvain,  1914.) 

*Vceuvre  d'art  et  la  Beaute.    (Conferences  philosophiques  faites  a 
Poitiers.)    (Louvain,  1920.) 

Civilization  and  Philosophy  in  the  Middle  Ages.  (Princeton  Uni- 
versity Press,  1922.)  viii,  316  p. 

*  For  books  so  marked  apply  at  Institut  de  Philosophie,  1  rue  des   flamands,  Louvain, 
Belgium. 


MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

ILLUSTRATED   FROM   THE 
SYSTEM   OF 

THOMAS  AQUINAS 


BY 

MAURICE   DE  WULF,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY  IN  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 


CAMBRIDGE 
HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:  UUMPHREY  MILFORD 
Oxford  Univekbitt  Pbess 

1922 


COPYRIGHT,  1922 
HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


TO  MY  FRIEND 
JAMES  HAUGHTON  WOODS 


i  (n  p^' 


t  yr-^' 


My  special  thanks  are  due  to  my  former  pupil  Dr. 
Ernest  Messenger,  now  professor  of  philosophy  at  Ware 
(England),  who  has  translated  from  the  French  the 
manuscript  of  this  book. 

Subsequently,  I  have  modified  profoundly  the  ideas 
of  this  original  version;  and  in  this  work  Mr.  R.  Demos 
and  Mr.  R.  M.  Eaton  have  very  kindly  assisted  me,  as 
they  have  also  in  the  correcting  of  the  proofs.  I  take 
pleasure  in  expressing  to  them  my  gratitude. 

M.  D.  W. 


CONTENTS 


I.  Introduction 3 

II.  Different  Kinds  of  KNO^\^^EDGE 8 

m.  How  Our  Knowledge  is  Formed      20 

IV.  The  Directing  Principles  of  Knowledge    ...  26 

V.  Various  Aspects  of  the  Epistemological  Problem  32 

VT;.  Moderate  Realism  and  the  Universals   ....  37 

M^I.  Desire  and  Freedom 46 

Vni.  A  Universe  of  Individuals 53 

IX.  The  Process  of  Change 66 

X.  Soul  and  Body 80 

XI.  God     90 

Xn.  Personal  Conduct  and  Moral  Values 99 

XIII.  Obligation  and  Moral  Law 108 

XIV.  Conscience  and  Moral  Virtue 112 

XV.  Grolt  Life  and  the  State 117 

XVI.  The  Construction  of  the  Sciences 129 

XMI.  The  Esthetic  Aspect  of  the  Universe     ....  136 

XMTI.  Classification  of  the  Sciences  and  Divisions  of 

Philosophy 139 

XIX.  Doctrinal  Characteristics  of  Scholasticism  .    .    .  146 

Bibliography 153 


MEDIAEVAL   PHILOSOPHY 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTION 

I.  The  place  of  Thomism  in  Mediaeval  Philosophy. 
II.  Plan  and  Method. 

I.  The  place  of  Thomism  in  Mediaeval  Philosophy.  Some 
years  ago  I  made  a  circuit  of  the  French  Cathedrals 
under  the  guidance  of  a  friend  who  is  an  archaeologist. 
"We  shall  visit  first,"  said  he,  "the  cathedral  of  Amiens, 
for  it  is  the  prototype  of  many  other  churches,  and  it  is 
easier  there  than  elsewhere  to  study  the  vaulting,  point- 
ing, pillars,  buttresses,  and  all  the  other  elements  which 
enter  into  the  grammar  of  Gothic  architecture.  After 
Amiens,  we  shall  visit  in  turn  Beauvais,  Rheims,  Paris, 
Laon,  and  Chartres.  But,  in  doing  so,  we  shall  con- 
stantly refer  back  to  what  we  have  seen  at  Amiens,  in 
order  to  point  out  resemblances  or  differences." 

This  wise  procedure,  to  the  happy  results  of  which  I 
can  testify,  can  be  applied  with  equal  advantage  in  the 
study  of  the  scholastic  philosophy  of  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, a  system  of  thought  contemporaneous  and  inti- 
mately connected  with  the  great  productions  of  Gothic 
architecture.  And  just  as  in  order  to  understand  the 
structural  methods  of  the  mediaeval  architects  it  is  well 
to  take  some  one  building  as  a  type  or  model,  so  also, 
in  the  study  of  the  system  of  ideas  known  as  scholastic 
philosophy,  we  could  not  adopt  a  better  pedagogic 
method  than  the  consideration  of  the  typical  expression 
of  the  system,  as  presented  to  us  by  Thomas  Aquinas  in 
the  years  about  1260-70.    This  procedure  will  enable 


4  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

those  who  wish  to  examine,  by  way  of  comparison,  the 
solutions  to  the  same  problems  given  by  Bonaventure, 
Duns  Scotus,  William  of  Occam,  and  others. 

There  is  another  consideration  which  explains  why, 
in  our  brief  outline  of  scholastic  philosophy,  we  treat 
principally  of  Thomism.  The  scholastic  philosophy  of 
the  thirteenth  century  is  a  common  and  impersonal 
patrimony  which  is  the  product  of  many  generations; 
and  this  patrimonial  character  —  a  trait  which  is  found 
also  in  the  architecture,  sculpture,  painting,  literature, 
legal  studies,  and  the  theology  of  this  period  —  enables 
us  thus  to  condense  into  the  study  of  one  single  giant  of 
thought  that  which  really  belongs  to  the  whole  period  in 
question.  Aquinas  is  the  most  striking  representative  of 
this  common  philosophy  {sententia  communis).  He  is 
the  complement  of  the  past  even  more  than  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  trend  of  thought.  He  was  not  the  dis- 
coverer of  all  the  doctrines  which  go  to  make  up  his 
.philosophical  system.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  intro- 
[duced  comparatively  few  new  ideas;  but  no  one  has 
rivaled  him  in  coordinating  doctrines  borrowed  from  his 
predecessors  and  in  systematizing  the  philosophical 
notions  of  the  world  and  of  human  life.^  He  embodied  in 
philosophy  the  unifying  tendencies  which  were  evident 
everywhere  in  the  civilization  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
Aquinas  belonged  to  an  epoch  of  great  ideas  and  great 
achievements,  when  men  fancied  that  they  had  at  last 
realized  a  permanent  and  durable  civilization  —  in 
fact,  a  position  of  stable  equilibrium,  completely  satisfy- 
ing St.  Augustine's  definition  of  peace:  Pax  est  tran- 
quillitas  ordinis.   Peace  is  the  tranquiUity  of  order. 

1  See  our  Histoire  de  la  pkilosophie  mMievale,  4th  edition,  1912.    A  fifth 
French  edition  is  in  preparation. 


INTRODUCTION  5 

The  pedagogical  aim  whicli  we  have  before  us  in  this 
little  book  forces  us  to  limit  ourselves  to  the  considera- 
tion of  the  great  and  central  doctrines  of  Thomism,  and 
to  leave  aside  the  innumerable  applications  of  those 
doctrines  which  may  be  found  scattered  up  and  down 
the  extensive  works  of  Thomas  Aquinas. 

Nor  shall  we  be  able  to  deal  with  the  relations  be- 
tween Thomism  and  the  civilization  with  which  it  was 
contemporaneous.  We  have  treated  this  subject  in  a 
recent  book,  Civilization  and  Philosophy  in  the  Middle 
Ages  ^  to  which  we  refer  the  reader.  Some  of  the  phil- 
osophical theories  developed  in  that  work  are  taken  up 
again  here,  but  from  another  point  of  view,  in  such  a 
way  that  the  two  books  supplement  one  another. 

There  is  yet  another  point  to  which  we  must  call  at- 
tention: We  are  concerned  only  with  scholastic  Phi- 
losophy, and  not  with  scholastic  Theology,  or  with 
Catholic  dogma.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that  there  were 
close  relations  between  scholastic  Philosophy  and 
Theology  in  the  thirteenth  century.  Philosophy  de- 
rived its  inspiration  from  Theology  in  a  certain  sense; 
for  it  was  planted  in  a  civilization  of  which  religion  was 
a  powerful  element.  But  this  philosophy  is  religious 
only  in  the  sense  in  which  one  can  apply  the  term  to 
art,  politics,  and  domestic,  social  and  economic  in- 
stitutions generally.  The  philosophical  work  of  Thomas 
Aquinas  forms  with  his  theological  work  a  diptych,  of 
which  the  two  wings  complete  or  rather  supplement 
each  other,  yet  each  retains  its  own  independent  signifi- 
cance. The  same  is  true  of  the  Divine  Comedy  of  Dante; 
it  is  at  once  an  artistic  poem  which  "heaven  and  earth 
combine  to  form,"  and  a  religious  book  "which  aims 

1  Princeton  University  Press,  1922,  pp.  viii,  316. 


6  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

at  delivering  mortals  from  their  state  of  misery  and 
conducting  them  to  eternal  happiness."  Again,  the 
same  applies  to  a  Gothic  cathedral,  which  is  an  artistic 
marvel  and  also  a  house  of  prajx^r.  It  is  quite  possible  to 
leave  aside  the  religious  connections  of  scholastic  phi- 
losophy with  Catholicism  and  consider  its  religious  prob- 
lems only  in  so  far  as  they  enter  into  a  conception  of  the 
world  and  of  human  life,  based  upon  pure  reason. 

Only  a  conscientious  study  of  the  Aquinas  of  history 
can  enable  a  person  to  judge  to  what  extent  the  philo- 
sophical doctrines  of  Thomism  retain  their  value  to-day. 
It  alone  can  give  us  the  means  of  sifting  the  theories 
which  are  true  and  alive  from  those  which  are  false  or 
superannuated.  By  this  means  we  shall  be  able  to 
distinguish  those  doctrines  which  had  a  meaning  for  the 
INIiddle  Ages  only,  and  are  entirely  bound  up  with  a  by- 
gone civilization,  from  those  other  doctrines  which  can 
be  transplanted  into  our  own  times  and  continue  to 
satisfy  that  need  of  the  ideal  which  exists  forever  in  the 
human  soul. 

II.  Plan  and  Method.  It  remains  to  notice  the  plan 
which  we  shall  follow.  In  our  survey  of  scholastic  philos- 
ophy, we  shall  remain  faithful  to  a  classification  which 
the  Schoolmen  themselves  adopted,  and  which  will  be 
indicated  and  justified  at  the  end  of  this  book  (XVIII). 
At  the  same  time  this  classification  will  explain  our  own 
method. 

The  first  chapters  will  be  devoted  to  the  study  of 
human  activities  —  conscious  and  unconscious  —  and 
principally  to  the  study  of  knowing  and  willing  (II- 
VII).  We  shall  then  consider  certain  general  views  con- 
cerning the  constitution  of  material  things  still  with 


INTRODUCTION  7 

special  reference  to  man  (VIII-X).  Another  chapter 
will  be  devoted  to  the  study  of  God  (XI).  This  first 
group  of  doctrines  corresponds  to  what  the  Schoolmen 
call  the  theoretical  portion  of  their  philosophy. 

The  chapters  on  practical  philosophy  will  treat  of  the 
fundamental  doctrines  concerning  individual  morality 
(XII-XIV),  social  philosophy  (XV),  the  logic  of  the  sci- 
ences (XVI) ,  and  esthetics  (XVII) .  A  general  summing 
up  will  bring  out  the  principal  characteristics  which  be- 
long to  this  doctrinal  structure  as  a  whole  (XIX). 

The  philosophical  terminology  we  employ  in  this 
book  is  that  of  Aquinas  and  his  contemporaries.  But 
we  shall  use  it  only  when  necessary,  and  we  have  tried 
throughout  to  give  for  all  the  technical  terms,  so  far 
as  possible,  a  modern  equivalent,  or  at  least,  to  show 
how  their  usage  differs  from  that  of  to-day.  It  is  impos- 
sible, however,  to  avoid  some  important  technical  terms. 
Every  science  has  its  own  vocabulary  —  chemistry, 
mathematics  are  cases  in  point.  So  it  is  not  surprising 
that  philosophy  should  have  its  own.  I  do  not  believe  it 
possible  to  follow  the  advice  of  Locke,  that  philosophy, 
when  speaking  to  the  public,  should  use  the  language  of 
the  ordinary  man.  Locke  himself  failed  to  practice  what 
he  preached.  All  that  one  can  require  is  an  explanation 
in  common  terms  of  the  technical  language  used. 

Few  quotations  will  be  found  in  the  present  work, 
since  we  propose  to  publish  a  separate  volume  of 
selected  readings,  taken  from  the  principal  writings  of 
Aquinas.  All  books  cited  in  footnotes  are  by  him,  un- 
less otherwise  specified. 


CHAPTER  II 

DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

I.    Central  position  of  the  theory  of  knowledge. 

II.   Two  irreductible  types  of  knowledge.    Knowledge  of  particular  ob- 
jects and  its  forms. 

III.  Abstract  and  general  knowledge. 

IV.  Several  forms  of  intellectual  knowledge.    Idea,  judgment,  reasoning. 
V.   The  wide  field  of  consciousness. 

I.  Central  position  of  the  theory  of  knowledge.  The 
Schoolmen  of  the  thirteenth  century  paid  special  atten- 
tion to  the  functions  of  knowing  and  willing.  They 
regarded  these  as  the  peculiar  and  privileged  possession 
of  the  human  race,  situated  as  it  is  at  the  boundary 
where  matter  and  spirit  meet.  For,  the  dignity  of  man 
results  from  a  certain  way  of  knowing  which  is  peculiar 
to  him,  and  which  is  called  intelligence.  This  we  must 
define  more  closely,  in  order  to  understand  in  what  sense 
scholasticism  can  be  described  as  an  intellectualist 
system  of  philosophy. 

What  is  knowing.'^  An  object  is  known  when  it  is 
present  in  a  certain  way  in  the  knowing  consciousness. 
When  I  see  a  stone  lying  in  a  road,  the  stone  is  present  in 
me,  but  not  indeed  in  the  material  way  in  which  it  is 
present  outside  of  me  in  the  external  world.  For  it  is 
perfectly  clear  that  "the  stone  is  not  in  me  so  far  as  its 
own  peculiar  existence  is  concerned."  ^  In  the  same  way, 
when  I  grasp  mentally  the  constituent  nature  of  the 
molecule  of  water,  and  the  law  which  governs  its  de- 
composition (H2O),  the  material  existence  of  the  mole- 

1  De  Veritate,  q.  23,  art.  1.   In  lib.  Ill  de  anima,  I,  q.  9. 

8 


DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE  9 

cule  does  not  in  any  way  enter  into  or  form  part  of  me; 
but  there  is  produced  in  me  a  kind  of  reflection  of  a 
non-ego.  The  privilege  of  a  being  which  knows  consists 
precisely  in  this  ability  of  being  enriched  by  something 
which  belongs  to  something  else.  "Knowing  beings  are 
differentiated  from  non-knowing  beings  by  this  charac- 
teristic :  non-knowing  beings  have  only  their  own  reality, 
but  knowing  beings  are  capable  of  possessing  also  the 
reality  of  something  else.  For  in  the  knowing  being  there 
is  a  presence  of  the  thing  known  produced  by  this 
thing."  1 

In  what  does  this  presence  or  reflection  of  the  object 
in  me  consist.'  The  Schoolmen  do  not  pretend  to  fathom 
the  mystery  of  knowledge;  their  explanation  is  a  mere 
analysis  of  facts  revealed  by  introspection. 

Knowing,  they  observe,  is  a  particular  kind  of  being, 
a  modification,  or  a  vital  action  of  the  knowing  subject. 
"The  thing  known  is  present  in  the  knowing  subject 
according  to  the  mode  of  being  of  the  knowing  subject"; 
it  bears  its  mark.  "All  knowledge  results  from  a  simili- 
tude of  the  thing  known  in  the  subject  knowing."  ^ 
These  two  quotations,  which  were  common  sayings, 
sum  up  well  the  views  of  the  thirteenth  century  psy- 
chologists. In  consequence,  knowledge  does  not  result 
merely  from  the  thing;  but  rather,  the  thing  known  and 
the  subject  knowing  cooperate  in  the  production  of  the 
phenomenon.  This  intervention  of  the  knowing  sub- 
ject shows  us  why  scholasticism  rejected  'naive  real- 
ism,' which  disregards  the  action  of  the  knowing  sub- 
ject, and  considers  the  object  known  as  projected  in  our 

1  Summa  TheoL,  I»,  q.  14,  art.  1. 

^  Cognitum  est  in  cognoscente  secundum  modum  cognoscentis.  Omnis 
cognitio  fit  secundum  similitudinem  cogniti  in  cognoscente. 


10  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

minds  like  an  image  in  a  lifeless  and  passive  mirror.  On 
the  other  hand,  since  there  is  an  activity  of  the  thing 
known  upon  the  knowing  subject,  our  representations 
of  reality  will  be  to  some  extent  faithful  and  correspond 
to  that  reality. 

II.  Two  irreducible  types  of  knowledge.  Knowledge  of 
particular  objects  and  its  forms.  It  is  of  great  importance 
to  note  that  scholasticism  distinguishes  between  two 
quite  different  kinds  of  knowledge :  sense  knowledge,  and 
intellectual  knowledge.  In  the  case  of  the  first  —  the 
perception  by  sight  of  an  oak  tree,  for  instance  —  every- 
thing that  I  grasp  is  particularized  or  individualized, 
and  intimately  bound  up  with  conditions  of  space  and 
time.  What  I  see  is  this  oak  tree,  with  a  trunk  of  this 
particular  form,  with  a  bark  of  this  degree  of  roughness, 
with  these  particular  branches  and  these  leaves,  in  this 
particular  spot  in  the  forest,  and  which  came  from  a 
particular  acorn  at  a  particular  moment  of  time.  If  I 
touch  the  tree  with  my  hand,  the  resistance  which  I  en- 
counter is  this  resistance,  just  as  the  sound  which  I  hear 
in  striking  the  bark  is  this  sound.  Our  external  senses 
(sight,  hearing,  smell,  taste,  touch)  put  us  in  contact 
either  with  something  which  is  a  proper  and  peculiar 
object  of  one  sense  and  which  each  sense  perceives  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  the  others  {sensibile  proprium),  for  in- 
stance, color  in  the  case  of  sight;  or  else  the  common 
object  {sensibile  commune)  of  more  than  one  sense,  for 
instance,  shape  in  the  case  of  sight  and  touch.  But  in 
every  case  the  reality  perceived  by  sense  is  always  en- 
dowed with  individuality. 

The  same  is  true  of  those  sensations  which  are  called 
internal,  and  which  originate,  in  the  scholastic  system 


DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE        11 

of  classification,  from  sense-memory  (a),  from  sense- 
consciousness  (6),  from  instinct  (c),  or  from  imagina- 
tion (d).  These  are  simply  so  many  labels  attached  to 
psychological  facts  which  have  been  duly  observed  and 
noted.   A  few  examples  will  make  this  clear. 

(a)  Sense-memory.  When  I  have  ceased  to  look  at 
the  oak  tree,  there  remains  in  me  an  after-image,  which 
is  said  to  be  '  preserved  '  in  memory,  since  I  am  able  to 
'  reproduce  '  it.  We  thus  possess  in  ourselves  a  store- 
house of  after-images  received  through  the  senses,^ 
which  can  be  reproduced  either  spontaneously,  or  else 
at  the  command  of  the  will.  It  is  clear  that  these  ves- 
tiges of  past  sensations,  retained  and  reproduced  in  this 
way,  are  individualized  just  as  the  original  sensation. 
If  I  picture  to  myself  an  oak  tree,  it  will  always  be  a 
picture  of  one  individual  oak  tree.  In  the  same  way, 
when  we  realize  that  a  sense  perception,  or  a  conscious 
act  of  our  physiological  life,  has  a  certain  duration,  or 
takes  place  after  another  activity,  this  realization,  which 
itself  involves  sense-memory,  is  once  more  individual 
and  singular,  and  presents  us  with  this  particular  time.^ 
The  recognition  of  past  time  involves  reference  to 
particular  psj'chological  events,  following  each  other. 

(6)  Sense-consciousness.  Moreover,  when  I  look  at 
an  oak  tree,  something  in  me  tells  me  that  I  see.  I  am 
aware  that  I  am  seeing.  My  sense  perception  is  followed 
by  '  sense-consciousness,'  and  the  content  of  this  sense- 
consciousness  is  particularized.  Again,  the  complex 
sense  cognition  of  this  oak  as  an  object  is  the  result 
of  the  coordination  of  many  sense  perceptions  coming 

'  Thesaurus  quidain  formarum  per  sensum  acceptarum  De  Veritate, 
q.  10,  art.  2. 

*  It  is  quite  different  from  the  abstract  notion  of  time  in  general.  That 
belongs  to  intellectual  knowledge.    (Cf.  VIII,  4.) 


12  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

from  different  senses :  the  height  of  the  tree,  the  rough- 
ness of  its  bark,  the  hollow  sound  which  its  trunk  gives 
when  struck.  There  is  reason  to  attribute  to  the  higher 
animals  and  to  man  a  central  sense,^  which  combines  the 
external  sense  perceptions,  compares  them,  and  dis- 
criminates between  them.  But  in  this  case  also,  the 
result  of  these  operations  is  individualized,  and  if  we 
compare  for  instance  two  complex  sense  perceptions  of 
oak  trees,  each  is  itself  and  not  the  other. 

(c)  Instinct.  We  can  apply  the  same  to  the  way  in 
which  we  recognize  that  a  certain  situation  is  dangerous 
for  us  or  otherwise.  We  possess  a  discriminating  power 
which  estimates  certain  concrete  connections  between 
things.  We  naturally  flee  from  fire,  and  a  shipwrecked 
man  clutches  instinctively  at  a  plank,  much  in  the  same 
way  as  a  lamb  looks  upon  a  wolf  as  dangerous,  and  a 
bird  considers  a  particular  branch  of  a  tree  as  a  suitable 
resting-place  for  its  nest.  This  act  of  sense  knowledge 
always  relates  to  a  particular,  concrete  situation. ^ 

{d)  Imagination.  Again,  the  constructive  imagina- 
tion, which  takes  the  materials  supplied  by  sense- 
memorj^  and  combines  them  into  all  sorts  of  fantastic 
images  —  when  I  imagine,  for  instance,  oak  trees  as  high 
as  mountains,  and  monstrosities  half  lion  half  man  — 
deals  with  what  is  particularized.  What  modern  psy- 
chologists might  call  a  composite  image  is  to  the  School- 
men simply  a  particular  image,  made  up  of  characters 
derived  from  other  particular  images. 

^  Called  sensus  communis,  which  is  quite  different  from  what  is  called 
to-day  common  sense.   De  potentiis  animae,  cap.  IV. 

^  In  the  case  of  the  animals,  it  is  the  result  of  a  mere  instinct  by  which 
they  appreciate  certain  things  as  harmful,  and  others  as  suitable  (naturalis 
aestimatio  ad  cognoscendum  nocivum  et  conveniens).  Man,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  guided  by  his  reason  "which  juxtaposes  things  in  order  to  compare 
them"  {Simma  Theol,  I*,  q.  78,  art.  4). 


DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE        13 

III.  Abstract  and  general  knowledge.  Introspection 
shows  us  that  we  possess  another  kind  of  knowledge 
with  characteristics  quite  different  from  those  we  have 
found  in  sense  knowledge.  Intellectual  knowledge, 
instead  of  being  concrete  and  particularized,  is  abstract 
and  general.   Let  us  consider  this  twofold  character. 

The  act  of  vision  of  an  oak  tree,  localized  in  a  par- 
ticular spot,  is  spontaneously  accompanied  by  notions 
such  as  '  height,'  '  cylindrical  form,'  '  local  motion,' 
'  color,' '  vital  activity,' '  cell,' '  matter,' '  being.'  These 
notions  are  indeed  derived  from  this  oak  tree,  but  the 
aspects  of  reality  which  we  grasp  by  them  are  no  longer 
bound  up  with  this  particular  individual :  they  reveal  to 
me  the  lohatness  or  essence  {essentia,  quidditas),^  or  in 
what  height,  local  motion,  life  activity,  combustion,  etc., 
consist.  We  confine  our  attention  to  certain  elements 
of  the  thing  under  consideration,  shutting  out  all  the 
other  elements,  and  stripping  them  of  all  particularizing 
determinations.  Abstraction  consists  precisely  in  this 
function  and  in  nothing  else.  In  what  height  consists  is 
considered  apart  from  everything  else,  and  this  selected 
aspect  of  reality  is  no  longer  related  to  this  oak  tree. 
So  that  the  term  abstraction  has  its  etymological  mean- 
ing {trahere  ah,  to  select  from,  to  draw  from;  abstraction 
is  sometimes  called  praecisio  mentalis).  I  possess  a 
treasure-house  of  abstract  notions  which  relate  to  all 
kinds  and  classes  of  reality. 

It  is  precisely  because  this  representative  content,  or 
object  2  of  thought  {id  quod  menti  objicitur) ,  is  no  longer 
bound  up  entirely  with  the  sight  of  any  particular  oak 

'  Quidditas,  quod  quid  est  (t6  tL  ftv  elj-ai  of  Aristotle). 

*  Object  is  taken  as  content  of  knowledge,  as  something  hcjore  the  mind  : 
id  quod  menti  objicitur. 


14  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

tree,  or  of  a  particular  human  being,  etc.,  that  it  is  seen 
upon  reflection  to  be  applicable  to  an  indefinite  number 
of  beings  which  move,  which  are  cylindrical  in  form, 
which  manifest  vital  activities,  which  are  material  in 
nature,  etc.  This  applicability  is  indefinite  —  it  is 
*  universal '  or  general,  and  extends  to  possible  realities 
as  well  as  existent  ones.  Universality,  therefore,  follows 
upon  abstraction,  as  Thomas  remarks. 

An  abstract  notion  of  mankind  seizes  what  mankind 
is,  as  distinct  from  the  whatness  of  an  elephant  or  a 
particle  of  radium.  A  universal  or  general  notion  of 
mankind  implies  that  such  a  reality  is  represented  as 
being  able  to  belong  to  an  endless  multitude  of  men. 
An  abstract  notion  is  thus  not  necessarily  universal,  but 
it  may  become  so.  If  we  bear  this  in  mind,  we  shall  be 
able  to  understand  better  the  scholastic  solution  of  the 
problem  of  Universals. 

We  said  above  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  general 
image.  Here  we  say  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  gen- 
eral idea  —  in  fact,  that  all  ideas  are  general.  There  is 
no  contradiction  here.  But  those  who  are  unaccustomed 
to  introspection  are  often  unconscious  of  the  vital  dis- 
tinction between  image  and  idea  which  underlies  our 
two  statements.  The  average  man  labels  his  mental 
content  as  '  images  '  and  '  ideas  '  indiscriminately.  Yet 
reflection  will  show  that  they  are  quite  different,  and 
that  the  one  is  general  while  the  other  is  not.  This  will 
be  made  clear  from  the  example  of  a  geometrical 
theorem —  for  instance,  that  the  angles  of  a  triangle  are 
together  equal  to  two  right  angles.  We  go  on  at  once  to 
picture  a  triangle,  and  we  say,  "Let  ABC  be  a  triangle," 
and  so  on.  But  this  image  of  a  triangle  is  a  particular 
one,  whereas  our  reasoning  applies  to  any  and  all  tri- 


DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE        15 

angles,  existent  or  only  possible.  It  is  thus  obvious  that 
the  idea  or  concept  triangle  is  abstract  and  general, 
whereas  the  image  is  not.  The  image  is  here  simply  a 
help  to  our  mental  consideration  and  reflection. 

The  knowledge  of  reality  by  means  of  abstract  and 
universal  notions  is  quite  distinct  from  the  particular, 
individualized  knowledge  of  the  external  and  internal 
senses.  The  Schoolmen  emphasize  this  difference  by 
attributing  abstract  knowledge  to  the  intelligence  {in- 
tellectus)  or  reason  (ratio).  The  prominent  place  oc- 
cupied in  scholasticism  by  this  doctrine  of  abstract  and 
general  knowledge,  which  we  may  describe  as  'Psy- 
chological Spiritualism '  or  better  still  as  Intellectualism, 
gives  the  system  a  definite  place  in  the  brilliant  group  to 
which  belong  Plato,  Aristotle,  Augustine,  Plotinus,  and 
in  later  times,  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  Kant. 

Abstraction  is  the  privilege  and  the  distinctive  act  of 
man.  It  is  likewise  the  central  activity  of  our  conscious 
life.  The  intellectualism,  which  results  from  this  theory, 
has  an  influence  over  all  the  branches  of  philosophy, 
and  we  shall  see  that  the  rights  of  human  reason  are  pro- 
claimed and  defended  at  every  stage  of  thought. 

IV.  Several  forms  oj  intellectual  knowledge.  Idea,  judg- 
ment, reasoning.  Just  as  the  sense  knowledge  of  par- 
ticular things  has  many  forms,  so  also  intellectual  or 
abstract  knowledge  presents  several  stages  —  simple 
apprehension,  judgment,  and  reasoning.  They  all  are 
fundamentally  abstract  knowledge,  i.  e.,  an  understand- 
ing of  what  something  is,  apart  from  the  particularizing 
conditions  in  which  it  exists,  or  is  capable  of  existing, 
outside  the  mind.  Which  are  the  psychological  features 
of  these  three  forms  of  thought.'* 


16  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

In  simple  apprehension  or  concept  or  idea,  the  mind 
considers  what  a  thing  is,  without  affirming  or  denying 
anything  about  it.  Example:  triangle,  square,  whole, 
part. 

The  act  of  judgment  consists  in  realizing  that  the 
content  of  two  ideas  —  or  two  objects  present  to  the 
mind —  are  in  mutual  agreement  or  disagreement.  Ex- 
ample: the  triangle  is  a  surface;  the  triangle  is  not  a 
sphere. 

The  abstract  character  which  belongs  to  all  our 
thoughts  explains  why  the  mind  must  make  judgments, 
i.  e.,  affirm  this  mutual  agreement  or  disagreement. 
AVhy  is  it  that  we  say,  "the  sum  of  the  angles  of  a  tri- 
angle is  equal  to  two  right  angles,"  "wine  is  changing 
into  vinegar  when  exposed  to  the  air  ".f*  Why  are  we  not 
content  simply  to  form  the  ideas  '  triangle ' , '  wine '  ?  The 
answer  lies  in  the  richness  of  reality,^  and  in  the  weak- 
ness of  our  minds.  We  are  incapable  of  grasping  by  one 
single  insight,  or  by  one  adequate  intuition,  all  that 
there  is  in  a  real  being.  Only  the  penetrating  eyes  of 
God  can  exhaust  the  intelligibility  of  things  by  a  single 
intuition,  as  Leibnitz  says,  and  read  in  a  blade  of  grass 
the  network  of  relations  which  constitutes  the  history  of 
the  universe.     Only  God  is  able 

To  see  a  World  in  a  grain  of  sand. 
And  a  Heaven  in  a  wild  flower, 
Hold  Infinity  in  the  palm  of  your  hand, 
And  Eternity  in  an  hour.^ 

1  By  reality  we  mean  something  which  is  not  a  mere  product  of  the  mind, 
—  as  opposed  to  the  unreal  or  fictitious.  The  real  is  either  existent,  e.  g.,  the 
sun,  or  else  a  possible  thing,  e.  g.,  a  triangle.  The  object  of  the  idea  'dark- 
ness' is  on  the  contrary  unreal. 

2  William  Blake,  "Auguries  of  Innocence,"  Works,  Oxford  Edition,  1914, 
p.  171. 


DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE         17 

Our  human  mind,  on  the  contrary,  has  to  grasp  reahty 
piecemeal,  and  by  partial  aspects,  or  partial  abstrac- 
tions. We  hunt  and  stalk  reality,  in  the  expressive 
language  of  the  Schoolmen  {venari),  but  never  com- 
pletely capture  it.  We  discover  in  a  triangle  its  proper- 
ties and  relations,  we  seize  the  activities,  reactions  of 
water.  Then,  after  this  mental  dissection,  we  refer  back 
to  the  thing  we  are  studying  —  now  become  the  subject 
of  a  judgment  —  each  and  all  of  the  aspects  discovered 
during  our  patient  investigations.  These  several  aspects 
correspond  to  several  predicates  of  our  judgments. 
Thus  we  say  S  is  P,  "  water  freezes  at  0°C.,  it  is  com- 
posed of  H2O,  it  boils  at  100°C.,  etc."  The  mind  unites 
things,  after  it  has  decomposed  them,  it  makes  a  syn- 
thesis, and  thus  presents  us  with  a  complex  object  of 
knowledge.  This  explains  why  the  notion  which  a 
chemist  has  of  water  is  much  richer  in  content  than  that 
of  an  ordinary  person.  Likewise,  in  a  fragment  of  a 
Greek  statue,  the  common  man  only  knows  superficial 
realities:  marble,  hardness,  whiteness,  etc.,  whilst  the 
archaeologist  places  the  whole  statue  in  the  history  of 
art  and  as  a  part  of  an  entire  civilization.  Judgment, 
then,  which  unites  or  separates  (compositioy  divisio  are 
the  scholastic  terms),  begins  and  ends  with  abstraction. 
It  follows  from  this  that  any  of  the  aspects  of  an  ob- 
ject (S)  may  become  the  predicate  (P)  of  a  judgment  — 
not  only  those  aspects  which  are  qualities  or  attributes, 
but  also  activities  displayed,  state  of  existence,  a  rela- 
tion, a  situation  in  time  or  space.  For  example,  the 
horse  (S)  is  drawing  a  carriage,  is  sick,  has  more  endur- 
ance than  a  mule,  appeared  in  prehistoric  time,  in 
Northern  Europe  (P) .  Each  of  these  aspects,  which  plays 
a  part  in  making  up  the  richness  of  the  real  object  S 


18  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

is  referred  back  to  S  by  the  mechanism  of  judgment 
through  the  use  of  the  copula  is.  The  verb  is  does  not 
indicate  an  inherence  in  the  subject  of  any  of  those  as- 
pects, but  the  mental  agreement  of  the  subject  and  the 
predicate.^ 

The  same  remarks  apply  to  the  process  of  reasoning, 
which  is  simply  the  production  of  a  new  judgment  by 
means  of  two  others,  and  whose  final  aim  is  to  enrich  the 
store  of  abstract  knowledge  about  the  special  material 
(such  as  plants,  human  acts,  numbers,  etc.)  upon  which 
a  special  science  turns  its  attention. 

V.  The  wide  field  of  consciousness.  Just  as  we  become 
witnesses  of  our  sense  perceptions,  so  also  consciousness 
accompanies  the  exercise  of  our  ideas,  our  judgments, 
our  reasonings. 

Not  only  is  it  the  case  that  each  act  of  thought  is 
spontaneously  accompanied  by  a  sort  of  intuition  of 
what  is  happening  in  us,  but  in  addition,  by  an  effort  of 
will,  we  can  turn  back  to  this  act  of  thought  and  in- 
vestigate either  the  operation  itself  as  a  modification  of 
the  ego  (psychological  consciousness) ,  or  else  as  a  mental 
content,  a  representation  of  something  (objective  con- 
sciousness) .  This  is  brought  about  by  a  sort  of  twisting 
or  turning  back  upon  ourselves,  which  we  cannot  better 
describe  than  as  reflection  {re-fled:  to  bend  back). 
When  I  reflect  upon  the  idea  of  local  displacement,  of 
life,  or  on  any  other  object  of  thought,  it  is  this  object 
itself  which  I  encounter  in  the  first  place,  and  which  I 
make  the  material  of  my  inquiries  (objective  conscious- 
ness).   The  subjective  operation  which  this  inquiry  in- 

^  Russell  has  on  this  point  misunderstood  the  '  traditional '  logic.  Our 
Knowledge  of  the  External  World,  p.  45  (London,  1914). 


DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  KNOWLEDGE        19 

volves,  the  relation  of  the  object  to  myself,  or  the 
internal  mechanism  of  my  operation  (subjective  con- 
sciousness) all  call  for  a  further  concentration,  which  is 
much  more  complicated  and  difficult.  This  agrees  with 
and  confirms  the  Thomistic  doctrine  that  knowledge, 
whether  spontaneous  or  reflective,  puts  us  in  presence  of 
'  something  '  which  is  not  merely  my  own  activity,  as 
idealists  maintain. 

Man  alone  possesses  this  privilege  of  reflecting,  or  of 
bending  his  consciousness  upon  itself,  for  reflection  is 
peculiar  to  spiritual  beings.  Animals  do  not  reflect; 
even  the  human  senses  cannot  do  so,  and  that  is  the 
reason  why  our  senses  are  incapable  of  correcting  by 
themselves  alone  the  illusions  or  errors  of  which  they 
may  be  victims.  Without  reflection,  I  should  have  no 
means  of  knowing  that  a  stick  plunged  in  the  water  is 
really  straight,  in  spite  of  appearances  to  the  contrary. 
I  should  remain  forever  the  dupe  of  sense  appearances, 
for  these  continue  to  exist  even  while  reflection  is  cor- 
recting them  (VI,  5). 

Consciousness  accompanies  not  only  our  sense  per- 
ceptions and  thoughts,  but  also  certain  functions  of  our 
physiological  life,  our  appetites,  volitions,  and  senti- 
ments or  affections.  Further,  not  only  does  it  accom- 
pany the  exercise  of  our  activities,  but  it  attains  in  a  more 
obscure  way  the  ego,  which  exists  in  these  activities. 
"I  think,  therefore  I  exist,"  is  an  intuition,  which  St. 
Augustine  and  Thomas  Aquinas  formulated  long  before 
Descartes. 


CHAPTER  III 

HOW  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  IS  FORMED 

I.   Origin  of  sensations.    Psychical  and  physical  aspects. 
II.   Origin  of  intellectual  knowledge. 

I.  Origin  of  sensations.  Psychical  and  physical  aspects. 
There  are  still  two  important  questions  concerning  the 
different  kinds  of  knowledge  which  consciousness  re- 
veals to  us:  how  they  are  formed  and  what  is  their 
value.  These  two  questions  are  quite  distinct,  and  form 
the  subject  of  the  following  chapters.  Here  we  shall 
discuss  how  knowledge,  whether  sensuous  or  intellect- 
ual, comes  into  existence. 

As  soon  as  a  child  awakens  to  life,  his  external  senses 
bring  him  into  contact  with  something  other  than  his 
consciousness:  the  color,  taste,  shape,  resistance, 
temperature,  etc.,  of  material  things.  Throughout  life, 
sensations  continue  to  play  this  principal  role.  Now, 
according  to  the  Schoolmen,  a  sensation  necessitates  an 
influx  of  a  particular  object  known  and  the  reaction  of 
the  subject  knowing.  Let  us  take  the  sight  of  an  oak 
tree  as  an  example.  The  sense  or  psychic  power  of  sight 
does  not  derive /rowi  itself  the  content  of  its  act  of  vision. 
An  impulse  coming  from  outside  and  received  by  me  is 
an  indispensable  factor,  without  which  an  act  of  sight 
would  be  impossible  But  as  soon  as  that  impulse  com- 
ing from  the  oak  tree  is  received  in  me,  I  react  to  the 
stimulus,  and  this  vital  reaction  completes  the  sense 
perception.  The  whole  phenomenon  is  imprinted  from 
outside,  and  exliibited  from  inside;  it  has  a  passive 

20 


HOW  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  IS  FORMED        21 

aspect  and  an  active  one.  The  Schoolmen  employed 
the  terms  species  impressa  and  expressa  to  signify  these 
two  aspects  (impression  and  reaction)  relating  sensu- 
ous knowledge  to  the  object  known  or  to  the  subject 
knowing. 

Thomas  insists  that  this  sense  impression  *'is  not 
known  directly"  {id  quod  cognoscitur) .  What  is  present 
to  sense  consciousness,  what  we  attain  to,  is  the  thing 
itself  —  the  oak  tree.  The  impression  which  it  pro- 
duces in  me  is  known  only  by  a  reasoning  process.  We 
realize  why  an  impulse  coming  from  the  external  object 
is  the  necessary  condition  by  which  we  know  {id  quo 
cognoscitur)  —  just  as  nervous  activity  is  needed  in 
sense  perceptions  and  is  not  perceived  by  consciousness. 
Analyzing  what  actually  is,  we  conclude  that  something 
else  must  he. 

The  phenomenon,  which  we  have  just  been  consider- 
ing, is  wholly  psychical,  since  it  takes  place  completely  in 
us,  and  is  of  a  cognitive  kind.^  Therefore,  the  problem 
of  the  transmitting  medium  of  sensations  is  quite  dis- 
tinct from  it.  By  what  medium  is  it  that  the  oak  tree, 
situated  a  distance  of  ten  yards,  say,  from  my  eye, 
affects  my  organism.^  A  few  Schoolmen,  such  as  Henry  of 
Ghent,  confounded  this  problem  with  the  previous  one. 
Thomas  Aquinas  and  Duns  Scotus,  on  the  contrary, 
carefully  distinguished  them.  The  transmission  of  the 
physical  action  of  external  objects  through  the  inter- 
vening air  or  water  is  treated  in  general  in  accordance 
with  their  notions  of  physics,  which  we  need  not  enter 
into  here.^ 

*  The  analysis  given  above  deals  only  with  external  sensations.  In  the 
case  of  internal  sensations,  it  is  the  trace  left  by  the  external  sensation  which 
sets  in  motion  the  series  of  acts  of  imagination  and  of  sense  memory. 

*  Since  the  species  of  the  Schoolmen  are  nothing  but  a  vital  reaction; 


22  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

XL  Origin  of  intellectual  knowledge.  There  is  a  well- 
known  adage  of  scholastic  and  thomist  psychology, 
which  states  that  we  derive  the  content  of  our  abstract 
ideas  from  the  content  of  our  sensations,  and,  by  means 
of  these,  ultimately  from  the  material  universe.  Nihil 
est  in  intellectu  quod  prius  non  fuerit  in  sensii.  "There 
is  nothing  in  the  mind  which  was  not  first  in  the  senses." 
Our  ideas  of  life,  strength,  greatness,  motion,  action 
exercised  or  received,  double,  half,  left,  right,  etc.  —  all 
these  and  a  thousand  others  equally  abstract  in  nature 
—  are  derived  from  our  sense  perception  of  the  objects 
which  surround  us.  We  have  proper  and  direct  knowl- 
edge of  the  material  world  only.  Our  mind  is  closely 
united  to  our  body,  and  it  is  in  and  through  the  cor- 
poreal bodies  that  we  obtain  our  intellectual  knowledge. 
It  follows  from  this  that  even  moral  ideas  (justice, 
right,  etc.)  and  our  knowledge  of  spiritual  beings  (the 
mind,  spirits,  God)  is  derived  from,  and  must  be  ex- 
pressed in  terms  of  the  material,  by  means  of  compari- 
son, analogy,  negation,  and  transcendence.  We  have 
only  an  improper  and  indirect  idea  of  what  is  spiritual. 
Although  we  can  prove  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 

since  the  impulse  of  the  external  being  (the  oak  tree)  is  psychological,  it  would 
be  a  misunderstanding  of  the  scholastic  doctrine  to  consider  the  species  as 
particles  which  are  detached  from  the  body  perceiv'ed,  and  which  pass  into 
the  percipient.  This  false  interpretation,  similar  to  the  theory  of  etduXa  of 
Democritus,  belongs  to  some  decadent  Schoolmen  of  the  sixteenth  and  seven- 
teenth centuries.  This  fact  explains  why  Leibnitz  disparages  the  scholastic 
theory  of  the  species.  He  writes,  "Accidents  cannot  separate  themselves 
from  substances  nor  go  about  outside  of  them  as  the  sensible  species  of  the 
scholastics  used  to  do."  The  Monadology,  translated  by  R.  Latta,  Oxford 
Press,  1898,  p.  129.  It  is  important  to  notice  that  the  Schoolmen  of  the  de- 
cadence, at  whom  the  objections  of  Leibnitz  were  aimed,  misinterpreted  the 
psychological  doctrine  of  the  thirteenth  century.  Latta  does  justice  to  the 
thirteenth  century.  "  Leibnitz  is  thinking  of  a  theory  {not  that  of  Thomas 
Aquinas),"  p.  220. 


HOW  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  IS  FORMED        23 

spiritual  being,  we  do  not  know  in  what  it  consists 
properly,  and  our  feeble  minds  have  to  conceive  it  by 
applying  to  it  the  notions  of  being,  reality,  causality, 
etc.,  which  have  come  to  us  through  the  channel  of  our 
senses. 

The  problem  of  the  origin  of  our  abstract  thoughts, 
however,  is  to  be  solved  in  the  same  way  in  which  it  is 
solv^ed  for  our  sensations.  But  it  is  more  complicated  on 
account  of  a  special  difficulty. 

Before  meeting  this  difficulty,  let  us  take  note  of  the 
similarity  which  exists  between  the  processes  of  sensation 
and  of  thought,  and  why,  in  the  last  analysis,  both  will 
be  solved  in  the  same  way.  This  similarity  consists  in 
the  initial  impression  coming  from  an  external  impulse, 
and  followed  by  a  characteristic  reaction  which  belongs 
to  thought  as  well  as  to  sensation.  For,  experience  and 
consciousness  alike  prove  that  the  mind  also  needs  to  be 
determined  or  completed  by  the  corporeal  object  known, 
and  that  it  does  not  derive  merely  from  itself  the  con- 
tent of  its  ideas.  A  blind  man  has  no  idea  of  color. 
Left  to  itself,  our  mind  would  be  an  empty  desert,  or  a 
clean  slate  {tabula  rasa),  with  nothing  written  on  it.^ 
Here,  as  in  the  case  of  sensation,  there  is  a  passage  from 
potentiality  to  actuality;  there  is  an  initial  passive 
state,  and  there  is  an  impression  which  is  received 
{species  intelligibilis  impressa) .  The  two  horses  or  dollars 
from  which  I  derive  the  abstract  idea  of  the  number 
'  two,'  or  of  '  money,' '  power,' '  form,'  etc.,  act  upon  my 
mind.  And  just  as  in  the  case  of  sensation,  the  mind 
reacts  to  the  stimulus  and  answers  by  a  vital  act,  by 
means  of  which  the  phenomenon  of  knowledge  is  com- 
pleted {species  intelligibilis  expressa). 

»  Summa  Theol,  I«,  q.  79,  art.  2. 


24  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Now  we  have  to  deal  with  a  special  difficulty  which 
arises  in  the  case  of  abstract  knowledge.  This  difficulty 
appears  because  it  is  necessary  to  harmonize  the  doc- 
trine of  which  we  have  just  been  speaking  with  a  central 
teaching  of  scholastic  metaphysics.  We  shall  see  later 
on  that  the  universe  of  all  Schoolmen  without  exception 
is  a  pluralistic  one,  and  that  each  of  the  myriad  beings 
of  which  it  is  composed  has  its  own  separate  and  inde- 
pendent existence  (VIII,  1).  Each  oak  tree  possesses 
its  own  being,  independent  of  all  others,  and  this  is 
equally  true  of  men,  animals,  etc.  And  thence  comes  the 
difficulty:  a  particular  individual  thing,  such  as  an  oak 
tree,  can  give  rise  to  a  sensation  of  sight  which  is  in  turn 
particularized;  but  how  can  it  give  rise  to  abstract  no- 
tions such  as  life,  cylindrical  form,  without  the  partic- 
ularizing conditions  which  belong  to  each  real  living,  or 
cylindrical  being  .'^  How  can  this  particular  living  being 
give  rise  to  the  notion  of  life  as  such?  How  can  the 
concrete  be  known  abstractly? 

The  external  object  (which  we  here  suppose  to  exist 
outside  of  us)  cannot  determine  thought  in  the  same 
way  as  it  determines  sensation.  By  itself  alone  it  is 
powerless.  The  two  horses,  being  particularized  and 
individual,  cannot,  by  means  of  the  sensations  they 
produce,  give  rise  to  an  impression  in  us  which  gives 
them  a  mode  of  being  different  in  kind  and  superior 
(abstract)  to  that  which  really  belongs  to  them  (partic- 
ular, concrete).  Otherwise  we  should  have  a  cause 
producing  an  effect  superior  to  itself.  The  less  would 
produce  the  more.  At  this  point.  Scholasticism  adopts 
an  Aristotelian  theory.  It  is  not  only  the  two  horses  or 
two  dollars  which  act  upon  my  intelligence,  but  the 
sensation  of  the  two  horses  or  dollars  act  in  cooperation 


HOW  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  IS  FORMED         25 

with  and  in  dependence  upon  a  special  spiritual  power 
within  me,  which  "shines  upon  the  sense  data,  and  makes 
them  capable  and  ready  to  produce  a  knowledge  in  which 
reality  is  deprived  of  all  its  concrete  and  individual 
features."  This  creative  power  is  called  active  intel- 
lect {intellectus  agens),  and  in  opposition  to  it  the  mind 
or  the  intelligence  in  which  the  impression  is  produced, 
under  the  twofold  influence  of  the  corporeal  beings  and 
the  intellectus  agens,  is  called  intellectus  possibilis. 

It  is  important  to  note  here  as  in  the  case  of  sensation, 
that  our  minds  grasp  directly,  in  the  two  dollars,  the 
content  '  two,'  '  money,'  '  paper,'  etc.;  but  in  attaining 
these  notions,  we  are  aware  neither  of  the  spiritual 
power  of  abstracting,  nor  of  the  impression  (species  im- 
pressa)  which  it  produces  in  us  by  the  object  known.  It 
is  again  by  a  process  of  reasoning,  which  seeks  for  an 
adequate  explanation  of  the  phenomenon,  that  we  pass 
from  what  is  to  what  must  be.  This  does  not  imply  that 
by  means  of  this  theory  we  understand  the  whole  mech- 
anism of  thought.  The  latter  remains  a  mystery.  In 
many  questions  we  must  be  satisfied  to  know  that  some- 
thing exists,  even  if  we  cannot  penetrate  its  inmost 
nature.  We  ought  never  to  ask  of  a  theory  more  than  it 
undertakes  to  do. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  DIRECTING  PRINCIPLES  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

I.   General  notion  of  the  directing  principles  of  knowledge. 
II.   Origin  and  nature  of  these  principles. 
III.   Logical  and  real  value. 

I.  General  notion  of  the  directing  principles  of  knowledge. 
Our  knowledge  consists  of  judgments,  connected  and 
coordinated  with  one  another.  The  progressive  life  of 
the  mind  moves  by  a  regular  process  in  which  judgments 
are  built  upon  other  judgments,  so  that  the  judgment  is 
the  principal  and  central  act  of  the  mind  (II,  4). 
Amongst  these  mental  enunciations  there  are  some 
which  play  a  capital  role  in  the  life  of  the  mind.  They 
rule  not  only  its  psychological  development,  but  also 
its  epistemological  and  logical  functioning,  and  there- 
fore they  deserve  our  special  attention.  We  call  them 
the  directing  principles  of  knowledge.  To  this  class 
belong  the  principle  of  contradiction  (a  thing  cannot 
both  be  and  not  be);  the  principle  of  identity  (that 
which  is,  is;  being  is  equal  to  itself);  the  principle  of 
excluded  middle  (there  is  no  middle  term  between 
being  and  non-being) ;  the  principle  of  sufficient  reason 
(being  is  endowed  with  all  the  elements  without  which 
it  could  not  be) ;  the  principle  of  totality  (the  whole  is 
equal  to  the  sum  of  its  parts) ;  the  principle  of  efficient 
causality  (non-necessary  being  exists  by  the  influence 
of  a  being  other  than  itself).  There  are  many  others. 
All  form  one  long  series,  in  close  connection  with  the 
principle  of  contradiction,  of  which  they  all  express 
different  elementary  phases  or  applications. 

26 


DIRECTING  PRINCIPLES  27 

These  judgments  are  called  principles  because  they 
serve  as  a  basis  for  other  judgments:  first  or  immediate 
principles,  because  it  is  impossible  to  prove  them  by 
reference  to  more  fundamental  judgments;  directing 
principles  (axioms  or  axiomata  in  the  language  of  the 
Schoolmen)  because  they  express  simple  relations  be- 
tween being,  of  whatever  kind  it  may  be,  and  certain 
elementary  and  primordial  notions  which  are  con- 
nected wath  being,  such  as  'non-being,'  'whole,'  'part,' 
'commencement  of  existence.' 

II.  Origin  and  nature  of  these  principles.  We  may  say 
that  experience  is  the  source  of  these  principles,  in  the 
sense  that  the  ideas  which  form  the  subject  and  predi- 
cates of  the  judgment  are  derived  from  experience. 
'Being,'  'whole,'  'commencement  of  existence,'  'causal- 
itv,'  are  derived  from  the  matter  of  our  internal  and 
external  sensations,  by  way  of  abstraction.  We  may 
go  farther  and  say  that  experience  facilitates  the  enun- 
ciation of  the  relation  between  the  subject  and  predicate. 
For  instance,  I  enunciate  the  principle  of  contradiction 
in  realizing  that  I  cannot  be  in  the  lecture  hall  and  in 
the  dark  room  at  the  same  time;  and  the  principle  of 
causality,  in  realizing  that  my  arm  is  raised  by  the 
command  of  my  will  acting  as  a  cause. 

But  it  is  of  vital  importance  to  note  that  for  the 
Schoolmen  the  bond  of  union  established  between  the 
subject  and  predicate  of  the  first  principles  we  are 
considering  is  based,  not  upon  experience,  but  upon 
the  content  of  the  subject  and  predicate,  as  revealed 
by  mere  analysis.  When  I  say  A  =  A,  this  judgment 
results  from  the  mere  consideration  of  A  (whatever  it 
may  be)  and  not  from  experience.     Since  it  does  not 


28  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

depend  upon  human  experience,  which  attains  only  to 
what  actually  exists,  the  bond  of  union  expressed  by 
these  principles  is  therefore  independent  of  the  exist- 
ence of  the  present  universe,  and,  in  fact,  of  all  crea- 
tion. Their  validity  does  not  depend  on  the  condition 
that  something  exists:  it  is  absolute.  If  the  universe 
had  never  existed,  and  there  was  just  one  intelligence 
besides  God,  this  would  have  been  capable  of  knowing 
the  axioms  which  govern  human  knowledge.  The  idea 
of  being,  and  the  other  primordial  notions  correlative 
to  it,  could  be  obtained  by  such  an  intelligence  from 
its  knowledge  of  itself,  or  from  God,  and  the  juxtaposi- 
tion of  subject  and  predicate  is  sufficient  to  reveal  the 
relation  between  them  in  the  case  of  the  axioms  in 
question. 

This  supposition  shows  that  there  is  no  contradiction 
between  the  view  expressed  earlier  that  the  constituent 
ideas  of  these  principles  (being,  non-being,  totality, 
etc.)  are  abstracted  by  the  mind  from  external  or  in- 
ternal sense  perceptions,  and  this  other  view  that  the 
bond  uniting  these  contents  may  be  grasped  without 
the  aid  of  experience. 

By  reason  of  these  characteristics,  directing  prin- 
ciples or  axioms  belong  to  a  comprehensive  class  of 
judgments  which  are  said  to  be  'knowable  as  a  result 
of  the  mere  juxtaposition  of  the  terms'  subject  and 
predicate  (propositio  per  se  nota)  and  which  would  be 
called  to-day  judgments  of  the  ideal  order. 

This  class  of  judgments  is  opposed  to  a  second  cate- 
gory, which  we  need  not  study  here,  but  which  we 
mention  only  in  order  to  emphasize  the  nature  of  the 
directing  principles  which  we  are  now  considering.  In 
this  second  category  of  judgments,  it  no  longer  suffices 


DIRECTING  PRINCIPLES  29 

to  juxtapose  the  terms  in  order  to  see  the  relation  be- 
tw'een  them:  we  must  have  recourse  in  addition  to 
experience  (proposiiio  per  aliud  nota;  the  aliud  is  ex- 
perience) .  If  I  do  not  need  to  subject  my  judgment  to 
the  control  of  experience  in  order  to  know  that  being 
and  non-being  are  mutually  exclusive,  this  control  is 
indispensable  in  the  case  of  the  judgment  that  water 
boils  at  100°  C;  or  that  men  have  a  natural  tendency 
to  live  in  social  groups.  The  second  class  of  judgments 
would  be  known  to-day  as  judgments  of  the  existential 
order  (X\^,  2). 

Let  us  consider  more  closely  the  group  of  judgments 
to  which  our  directing  principles  belong.  It  would  ap- 
pear at  first  sight  that  the  judgment  of  the  ideal  order  of 
the  Schoolmen  coincides  with  the  'judgment  de  jure'  of 
Leibnitz,  and  the 'analytic' judgment  of  Kant,  i.e.,  the 
judgment  in  which  the  subject  includes  the  predicate. 
It  is  true  that  scholastic  philosophy  classifies  among 
judgments  of  the  ideal  order  these  propositions,  whiich 
Kant  despised  as  mere  tautologies.  But  Thomas  Aqui- 
nas goes  on  to  point  out  that  there  is  another  kind  of 
judgments  of  the  ideal  order,  knowable  by  the  mere 
analysis  of  the  subject  and  the  predicate,  and  which  is 
much  more  interesting.  In  these  the  predicate  is  not 
included  in  the  subject,  but  nevertheless  a  clear 
knowledge  or  insight  into  the  predicate  reveals  the 
bond  which  indissolubly  unites  it  with  the  subject, 
once  this  subject  is  given.  Although  the  predicate  is 
not  contained  within  the  subject,  there  is  an  exigentia, 
or  need,  which  imi)eriously  demands  the  union  of 
predicate  and  subject.  The  axioms  which  we  are  con- 
sidering in  this  chapter  all  belong  to  this  second  class, 
except  perhaps  the  principle  of  identity. 


30  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Take,  for  instance,  the  principles  of  contradiction  and 
that  of  causality.  The  mere  analysis  of  the  notion  of 
being  will  never  reveal  the  notion  of  non-being  (the 
negation  is  not  implied  in  the  affirmation),  nor  that  of 
incompatibility  with  (the  relation  with  is  not  implied  in 
the  notion  of  a  thing  considered  in  itself).  But  once  the 
ideas  of  being  and  non-being  are  present  to  a  mind  the 
incompatibility  of  the  two  is  forcibly  evident.  Or  again, 
from  the  notion  of  'non-necessary  existence'  we  could 
never  deduce  that  of  'actual  existence  in  the  realm  of 
fact.'  But  if  we  juxtapose  and  compare  the  two  no- 
tions, it  is  evident  to  us  at  once  that  the  one  is  not  the 
other,  and  that  if  a  non-necessary  thing  is  conceived 
as  existing  in  point  of  fact  we  cannot  explain  this  ex- 
istence, without  something  other  than  itself.  Indeed, 
a  non-necessary  thing  is  non-existent  of  itself.  Hence, 
it  cannot  give  to  itself  what  it  does  not  possess.  As 
soon  as  this  non-necessary  being  is  represented  as  exist- 
ing, it  ought  to  be  referred  to  some  external  influence  — 
a  causal  influence  —  which  is  the  sufficient  reason  of 
this  existence.  This  is  the  enunciation  of  the  principle 
of  efficient  causality:  "The  existence  of  a  non-neces- 
sary being  demands  a  cause." 

III.  Logical  and  real  value.  Since  the  relation  which 
unites  the  terms  of  the  directing  principles  is  so  evident 
that  it  "leaps  to  the  eyes "  as  the  French  say  (sauter  aux 
yeux),  independently  of  experience,  and  since  these 
principles  express  the  laws  of  being  as  such  and  of  all 
being,  there  will  be  no  difficulty  in  allowing  that  they 
govern  all  conceivable  being.  They  direct  and  control 
every  assertion;  they  rule  'universal  intelligibility.' 
They  therefore  rule  and  guide  the  collection  of  judg- 


DIRECTING  PRINCIPLES  31 

ments  which  go  to  make  up  our  human  sciences,  and 
likewise  the  various  judgments  which  regulate  our 
practical  life.  For  instance,  if  the  principle  of  contradic- 
tion were  to  become  uncertain,  or  doubtful,  no  human 
affirmation  would  hold  good,  —  not  even  the  famous 
dictum,  "I  think,  therefore  I  exist."  The  assertion  of  my 
existence  is  not  valid,  if  what  I  perceive  as  real  can  both 
be  and  not  be.  For  this  reason  the  principle  of  contradic- 
tion is  called  by  the  Schoolmen  the  first  principle  par 
excellence,  and  they  make  their  own  the  declaration  of 
Aristotle  to  the  effect  that  a  person  who  could  not  grasp 
this  principle  would  not  be  a  man,  but  a  blockhead. 

Do  these  principles,  which  apply  to  all  conceivable 
beings,  also  govern  existent  being,  in  case  anything  is 
proved  to  exist .^  And  if  they  govern  the  material  uni- 
verse as  a  whole,  will  they  apply  also  to  a  world  of 
suprasensible  or  spiritual  beings,  if  such  exist .^  These 
questions  form  part  of  the  great  epistemological  problem 
which  we  must  now  consider. 


CHAPTER  V 

VARIOUS  ASPECTS  OF  THE  EPISTEMOLOGICAL 

PROBLEM 

I.   Metaphysical  and  psychological  aspects. 
II.   The  data  of  the  epistemological  problem. 

I.  Metaphysical  and  psychological  aspects.  The  School- 
men of  the  thirteenth  century  never  doubted  for  a 
moment  that  our  faculties  of  knowing  are  capable  of 
attaining  extra-mental  reality.  In  those  dogmatic  days 
there  were  no  critics  and  adversaries  such  as  those  of 
later  times,  for  whom  the  critical  problem  of  knowledge 
occupies  so  large  a  place  in  philosophical  speculation. 

In  the  writings  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  especially 
in  the  fine  treatise  concerning  Truth  [De  Veritate),  the 
problem  of  truth  is  considered  from  two  distinct  points 
of  view.  The  first  is  metaphysical;  the  second  psycho- 
logical and  critical. 

The  metaphysical  doctrine  sets  out  from  the  study 
of  God,  the  infinitely  perfect  Being,  whose  existence  is 
here  presupposed,  and  continues  in  a  long  series  of 
magnificent  synthetic  conceptions,  —  a  chain  of  gold, 
as  it  were,  of  which  the  first  links  were  forged  by  Plato, 
others  by  St.  Augustine,  and  the  last  by  Thomas  himself. 
Here  is  the  chain  of  reasoning  in  its  logical  sequence. 
God  is  Infinite.  He  alone  possesses  the  plenitude  of 
reality  (XI).  Every  possible  being  (which  will  neces- 
sarily be  outside  of  and  distinct  from  Him)  must  pos- 
sess its  ratio  aeterna,  eternal  reason,  or  explanation, 


THE  EPISTEMOLOGICAL  PROBLEM  33 

in  the  Infinite  Essence  of  God.*  In  other  words,  every 
finite  being  is  a  feeble  and  distant  imitation  of  the  Divine 
Infinity.  There  is  no  limit  to  the  multitude  of  such 
possible  beings.  God,  in  knowing  Himself,  knows  by 
means  of  the  same  intuitive  vision  all  possible  things, 
whether  He  calls  them  to  existence,  or  not.  Man,  with 
his  Intelligence,  occupies  a  certain  rank  in  this  hierarchy 
of  essences.  In  consequence,  human  nature  or  essence 
(that  which  each  man  is)  stands  in  a  certain  fixed  rela- 
tion to  the  Infinite  Being.  Likewise,  the  human  mind 
is  a  torch  which  has  been  lit  by  the  Sun  of  Truth,  i.e., 
the  Divine  Being,  in  order  to  reveal  beings  and  reality, 
just  as  fire  is  made  to  burn.  Thus,  in  the  last  analysis, 
God  is  the  foundation  of  the  reality  and  of  the  intelligi- 
bility of  all  that  exists  or  is  possible  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  the  aptitude  of  the  human  mind  to  attain  to 
reality,  i.e.,  to  possess  truth,  on  the  other. 

A  conception  like  this  results  from  a  coordination  of 
many  theories  presupposed  here  and  established  elsewhere, 
and  forms  a  good  example  of  the  cohesion  of  scholastic 
philosophy  as  a  whole  (XIX,  2).  The  psychological 
aspect  of  the  problem  of  truth  is  quite  different.  It 
rests  upon  the  analysis  of  the  facts  of  consciousness. 

II.  The  data  of  the  epistemological  problem.  The  treatise 
De  Veritate  sets  out  quite  clearly  the  data  of  the 
epistemological  problem  of  certitude  and  truth. 

(a)  It  reduces  it  to  a  reflective  examination  of  those 
beliefs  which  we  form  spontaneously  and  which  we 
find  already  in  our  minds,  when  we  start  our  reflection. 

'  This  is  the  theory  of  St.  Augustine.  The  doctrine  of  the  rationes  aeternae 
or  eternal  reasons  of  things,  is  a  modification  of  the  Ideas  of  Plato,  which 
Ijegins  to  appear  in  the  writings  of  the  later  Stoics. 


34  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

(b)  It  regards  truth  as  an  attribute  of  the  judgment, 
and  not  of  the  concept  or  of  the  simple  apprehension. 

(c)  From  the  vaHdity  of  judgments  which  are  the 
results  of  reflection,  it  deduces  that  of  spontaneous 
judgments  which  we  formulate  almost  unconsciously. 

Let  us  examine  these  points  more  closely. 

(a)  The  epistemological  inquiry  consists  of  an  ex- 
amination of  preexisting  beliefs  by  means  of  reflection. 
We  are  dogmatists  from  birth.  As  a  result  of  the  in- 
fluence of  education,  our  domestic  and  social  surround- 
ings, and  also  the  spontaneous  play  of  our  faculties,  we 
firmly  assent  to  a  great  number  of  propositions  which 
have  entered  into  our  minds  without  question  or  exami- 
nation, like  a  crowd  entering  a  free  place  of  amusement. 
For  instance,  we  believe  that  2  -f  2  =  4 ;  that  our  rela- 
tives exist ;  that  there  are  things  which  we  ought  to  do 
and  others  which  we  ought  not  to  do,  etc.  Spontaneous 
and  direct  certitude  precedes  therefore  the  inquiry  into 
certitude.  Nay  more:  it  is  the  former  that  is  the  object 
studied  by  the  latter.  Without  spontaneous  assertions, 
the  epistemological  inquiry  would  be  void  and  empty. 
The  critical  or  epistemological  problem  consists  of 
scrutinizing  these  beliefs  one  by  one,  just  as  we  separate 
the  good  grain  from  the  chaff.  We  then  examine  the 
motive  which  leads  us  to  eliminate  some  and  keep 
others.  *'This  investigation,"  writes  Thomas,  "con- 
sists in  taking  as  the  object  of  our  inquiry,  not  only  our 
subjective  act  of  assent,  but  also  the  data  to  which 
we  assent."^ 

(b)  The  process  is  an  examination  of  the  judgment, 
because  truth  is  an  attribute  of  judgment,  and  not  of 

■  simple  apprehension. 

*  De  Veritate,  q.  1,  art.  9. 


THE  EPISTEMOLOGICAL  PROBLEM  35 

This  is  a  doctrine  which  no  Schoohnan  ever  opposed. 
The  idea  of  God,  man,  oak  tree  is  neither  true  nor 
false,  any  more  than  the  beings  themselves  which  we 
call  God,  man,  oak  tree,  are  strictly  speaking  true  or 
false.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  truth  consists  in  a 
relation  of  agreement  or  conformity,  —  adequatio.  Now 
in  that  which  is  simple  —  such  as  an  idea  —  there  is  no 
place  for  a  relation. ^  The  agreement  or  conformity  of 
the  content  of  an  idea,  such  as  good,  living,  derived 
from  an  acorn,  with  a  being  to  which  we  refer  it,  exists 
only  in,  and  by  the  judgment.  Examples:  'God  is 
good,'  'man  is  a  living  being,'  'the  oak  tree  originates 
from  an  acorn.'  Truth  therefore  in  its  strict  sense  be- 
longs to  the  judgment,"  and  it  is  found  in  simple  appre- 
hension, or  in  the  things  themselves,  only  in  a  sense 
which  is  secondary,  and  rests  upon  the  first. 

(c)  The  examination  by  way  of  reflection  enables  us 
to  test  the  value  of  those  judgments  which  we  form 
spontaneously,  before  and  without  the  aid  of  reflection. 
There  is  no  fundamental  difference  between  the  mental 
process  in  the  case  of  primordial  and  direct  assertions 
and  that  in  the  case  of  controlled  or  reflective  assertions. 
But  the  only  means  we  possess  of  examining  the  value 
of  the  former  is  to  study  them  through  the  prism  as  it 
were  of  the  latter.  We  shall  find  later  that  it  is  reflec- 
tion which  gives  us  the  motive  and  criterion  for  retain- 
ing some  of  our  spontaneous  assents  and  rejecting 
others.  It  is  also  reflection  which  justifies  our  belief 
that  judgments  recognized  as  true  attain  to  the  external 
world  in  a  way  which  is  indeed  inadequate,  but  yet 
relevant.  We  shall  thus  be  enabled  to  draw  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  external  reality  is  in  the  last  analysis  re- 

'  Contra  Gentiles,  I,  cap.  59.  *  De  Veritate,  q.  1,  art   3. 


36  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

sponsible  for  our  spontaneous  assertions  subsequently 
recognized  as  valid,  and  that  accordingly,  the  human 
mind  is  capable  of  attaining  to  truth :  its  nature  is  to  be 
in  conformity  with  things.  By  reflective  examination 
and  reasoning,  we  recognize  that  our  original  mental 
operation  is  a  valid  and  reliable  one. 

The  two  mental  processes  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking  —  the  reflective  examination  of  our  assertions, 
and  the  direct  acquisition  of  judgments  to  which  we 
assent  without  any  conscious  motive  for  doing  so  — 
are  clearly  referred  to  by  Aquinas,  but  he  does  not 
always  keep  the  two  quite  distinct.  He  passes  con- 
tinually from  the  point  of  view  of  direct  knowledge  to 
that  of  reflection,  and  vice  versa.^ 

*  To  my  mind,  this  explains  the  differences  amongst  the  interpreters  of 
the  texts  of  Aquinas  concerning  the  notion  of  truth.  Interminable  discus- 
sions have  been  waged  recently  on  this  subject. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MODERATE  REALISM  AND  THE  UNIVERSALS 

I.  \Miat  the  epistemological  problem  involves. 

II.  Objectivity  of  external  sensations. 

III.  Real  objectivity  of  abstract  and  general  ideas.    Universals. 

IV.  The  Via  Media  between  Naive  Realism  and  Idealism. 
V.  The  nature  of  the  mental  synthesis. 

VI.   Conclusion. 

I.  What  the  epistemological  problem  involves.  It  has 
been  indicated  that  the  epistemological  problem  centers 
upon  an  inquiry  concerning  the  validity  of  our  spon- 
taneous assertions.  This  inquiry  resolves  itself  into 
two  problems.  First,  the  motive  which  leads  the  mind 
to  establish  a  relation  between  a  subject  and  a  predicate 
in  a  judgment,  and  secondly,  the  validity  of  the  re- 
spective terms  themselves.  Thus,  when  I  say  that  a 
number  is  odd  or  even,  or,  that  water  boils  at  100°  C, 
I  may  inquire: 

(a)  What  leads  me  to  form  a  mental  synthesis  of 
number  and  odd  or  even;  of  water  and  boiling  at 
100°  C? 

(&)  What  is  the  validity  of  these  terms:  number; 
odd;  even;  water;  boiling?  Are  they  mere  mental 
products  or  do  they  refer  to  objects  independently 
existent  in  an  external  world? 

Aquinas  does  not  formulate  these  two  problems  with 
modern  precision,  for  he  wrote  at  a  time  when  idealism 
and  scepticism  were  mere  academic  theses  which  no  one 
took  seriously;  but  his  doctrine  contains  a  solution  of 
the  two  [)roblems  which  we  have  indicated. 

87 


38  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

We  will  begin  with  the  second,  and  his  answer  may- 
be summed  up  as  follows:  "Our  sense  perceptions  cor- 
respond to  an  external  world,  but  their  content  is  not 
adequate  or  complete.  Again  our  abstract  and  general 
ideas  (water,  life,  number,  equality,  etc.)  correspond  to 
a  reality  which  is  not  solely  a  product  of  the  mind,  since 
it  has  been  inferred  from  sense  data." 

II.  Objectivity  of  external  sensations.  Generally  speak- 
ing, according  to  the  Schoolmen,  the  information  pre- 
sented to  us  by  our  senses  is  valuable,  when  working 
normally  and  when  referring  to  their  proper  object, 
i.e.,  the  special  quality  which  each  sense  perceives  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  the  others  (II,  2) .  In  the  case  then 
of  color,  sound,  odors,  quantitative  state  and  shape  of 
bodies,  the  sense  data  of  sight,  hearing,  smell,  touch 
were  considered  as  infallible.  "The  senses  announce 
to  us  as  they  are  themselves  affected  or  modified." 
Nuntiant  uti  ajfficiuntur.^ 

Do  our  senses  give  us  not  only  accurate  information 
concerning  the  material  worls,  but  also  adequate  knowl- 
edge.^ Scholasticism  is  prevented  from  admitting  this 
in  virtue  of  its  basic  principles,  since  in  every  act  of 
cognition  we  contribute  something  of  our  own.  Color 
cannot  exist  in  my  visual  organ  in  the  same  way  that 
it  exists  outside.  But  the  problem  of  the  extent  to 
which  our  sensations  correspond  to  the  external  world 
was  neglected  in  the  thirteenth  century.  The  illusions 
of  the  senses  were  indeed  known  at  that  time;  but  as 
will  be  seen  it  was  held  that  the  erroneous  information 
which  resulted  therefrom  was  not  imputable  to  the 

*  Summa  Theol.,  1%  q.  17,  art.  2,  or  again:  " Non  decipitur  (sensus)  circa 
objectum  proprium."   The  senses  do  not  err  concerning  their  proper  object. 


MODERATE  REALISM  39 

senses  as  such.  At  the  most  they  conceded  to  the  per- 
ceptions of  touch  the  privilege  of  giving  us  the  most 
intimate  contact  of  all  with  reality,  since  continuous 
quantity,  which  is  perceived  by  the  sense  of  touch,  is 
the  fundamental  attribute  of  material  things,  resulting 
from  its  very  nature.^  The  Schoolmen  were  not  aware 
of  the  distinction  between  primary  and  secondary 
qualities,  in  the  sense  introduced  by  Descartes  and 
Locke.  They  held  that  quantity  and  extension  do  not 
constitute  the  essence  of  bodies  (as  Descartes  thought) , 
but  rather  its  fundamental  property, 

III.  Real  objectivity  of  abstract  and  general  ideas.  Uni- 
versals.  An  abstract  idea  has  the  same  validity  as  a 
sensation,  for  it  is  from  the  content  of  sensation  that 
the  content  of  our  ideas  is  derived.  This  content  — 
including  that  of  the  highest  and  most  general  concepts, 
such  as  cause,  life,  substance  —  is  contained  in  some 
way  in  the  complexus  of  reality  grasped  by  our  senses; 
for,  obviously,  if  they  were  not  somehow  in  sense  data, 
they  could  never  have  been  derived  from  it. 

But,  there  is  a  special  difficulty  when  we  come  to 
consider  what  sort  of  correspondence  can  exist  between 
reality  and  the  concepts,  each  of  which  represent  some 

'  Sensus  tactus  quasi  fundamentum  aliorum  sensuum.  De  Veritale,  q.  22, 
art.  5.  It  is  possible  to  give  a  direct  proof  of  the  objectivity  of  external 
sensations  by  means  of  the  principle  of  causality.  A  sensation  is  a  non- 
necessary  or  a  contingent  event;  it  might  not  have  taken  place.  In  conse- 
quence, it  has  not  within  itself  a  sufficient  explanation  of  its  existence,  — 
it  depends  upon  something  else  (IV,  2).  This  'other'  is  not-myself,  for  con- 
sciousness bears  witness  that  I  am  passive  in  sensation.  We  accordingly 
conclude  that  this  other  is  different  from  myself,  and  that  there  exists  a  real 
non-ego,  which  is  the  cause  of  the  vital  excitation  culminating  in  the  act  of 
sensation.  By  elimination,  it  can  l)e  proved  that  this  non-ego  is  none  other 
than  tlic  material  world.  This  reasoning,  which  we  do  not  meet  in  the  texts 
of  Thomas,  is  quite  in  the  spirit  of  his  philosophy. 


40  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

aspect  of  it.  We  came  across  the  same  difficulty  previ- 
ously, when  dealing  with  the  origin  of  ideas  (III,  2). 
Here  the  difficulty  concerns  their  validity.  Outside  us, 
everything  is  individual;  the  universe  of  the  School- 
men is  a  pluralistic  universe,  composed  of  single  sub- 
stances (VIII,  1),  and  everything  which  affects  these 
individual  substances  is  particularized.  This  being  so, 
how  can  there  be  any  correspondence  between  that 
which  is  concrete  and  singular  (e.g.,  this  living  being, 
this  material  movement)  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
abstract,  universal  notion  (life,  motion)  on  the  other.? 
Such  is  the  famous  problem  of  Universals,  —  or  rather 
of  the  validity  of  our  abstract  and  universal  ideas. 

Aquinas  replies  that  the  correspondence  "between 
ideas  and  individual  realities  is  not  adequate,  but  is 
none  the  less  faithful."  To  prove  this,  let  us  distinguish, 
as  he  does,  between  the  abstract  character  of  the  idea, 
and  its  universality. 

Consider  the  character  of  abstractness,  which  is  the 
primordial  one.  We  already  know  that  the  content  of 
the  concept  'man,'  'life,'  'local  motion'  is  considered 
apart  from  those  particular  characteristics  inseparable 
from  each  individual  man,  or  each  living  being,  or 
instance  of  local  motion.  As  viewed  by  the  mind, 
reality  is  neither  one  nor  multiple;  it  seems  to  be  com- 
pletely indifferent  to  anything  connected  with  number. 
The  concept  simply  expresses  the  whatness  of  the 
reality  'man,'  'movement,'  'life.'  In  consequence,  the 
abstract  concept  is  a  faithful  representation  of  reality, 
for  all  the  elements  which  go  to  make  up  the  whatness 
or  essence  of  'man'  or  'life'  or  'motion'  are  found  in 
each  individual  man  or  movement.  Abstraction  does 
not  falsify  {abstrahentium  non  est  mendacium) . 


MODERATE  REALISM  41 

But  the  concept,  although  faithful  to,  is  not  entirely 
commensurate  with  concrete  things,  for  the  mind 
neglects  the  hall-mark  of  individuality  which  differenti- 
ates each  particular  man,  living  being  or  movement 
from  others,  and  is  incapable  of  knowing  it.  The 
abstract  concept  teaches  us  nothing  concerning  the 
essence  of  the  individual.  Moreover,  not  only  is  it  true 
that  the  hall-mark  of  individuality  escapes  the  mind, 
but  our  idea  of  a  living  being  does  not  take  account  of 
the  differences  in  essence  between  living  beings  of 
several  kinds.  The  more  abstract  our  knowledge  is,  the 
less  it  conveys  of  reality.  The  human  mind  has  nothing 
to  be  proud  of.  Feeble  and  weak,  but  reliable  in  the 
little  that  they  teach  us,  —  such  is  the  nature  of  our 
abstract  ideas. 

As  for  the  process  of  universalization,  which  the 
abstract  idea  undergoes,  this  is  entirely  the  work  of 
the  mind,  for  it  consists  in  attributing  to  the  content  of 
the  abstract  idea  an  indefinite  elasticity,  and  enables  us 
to  realize  for  instance  that  the  essence  of  local  motion 
or  of  humanity  is  found  identically  and  completely  in 
all  instances  of  local  motion,  and  in  all  human  beings, 
whether  actually  existing  or  only  possible.  The  char- 
acteristic of  universality  is  the  result  of  a  reflection. 
Peter  or  John  do  not  admit  of  multiplication.  Univer- 
sals  do  not  exist  outside  of  us;  they  exist  only  in  our 
understanding.  On  the  other  hand,  the  whatness  to 
which  our  mind  gives  the  form  of  universality  has  a 
foundation  in  the  extra-mental  world.  The  process  of 
universalizing  neither  takes  away  nor  adds  anything 
to  the  validity  of  the  abstract  ideas.  Universale  est 
formaliter  in  intellectu,  fundamentaliter  in  rebus.  Such 
is  the  condensed  formula  which  sums  up  the  thomistic 


42  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

solution  of  the  problem.  It  was  not  discovered  by 
Aquinas,  but  is  rather  the  result  of  a  slow  and  painful 
elaboration  by  Western  thought  in  general.  We  find 
already  in  Abaelard,  who  flourished  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury, this  doctrine  of  sound  common  sense,  which  fits 
in  so  well  with  the  individualism  of  the  Feudal  system. 

IV.  The  Via  Media  between  Naive  Realism  and  Idealism. 
The  thomistic  doctrine  of  the  correspondence  between 
sense  perceptions  and  abstract  ideas  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  external  world  on  the  other  hand  may  be  called 
the  via  media  between  naive  realism  and  idealism. 

For  the  person  whom  we  call  a  'naive  realist,'  reality 
is  altogether  independent  of  our  knowledge  of  it,  and 
our  minds  faithfully  and  accurately  reflect  things  just 
as  they  are  outside  of  us,  in  a  merely  passive  way.  The 
external  world  is  reflected  in  consciousness  as  in  a  mir- 
ror. Scholasticism  rejects  this  explanation  of  the  ab- 
solute correspondence  between  the  world  of  reality  and 
the  world  of  thought,  as  being  too  superficial,  and 
instead  gives  us  the  conception  of  knowledge  as  a  com- 
plex phenomenon,  the  product  of  two  factors,  —  the 
object  known  and  the  subject  knowing.  The  knower 
invests  the  thing  known  with  something  of  himself. 

Does  this  imply  that  the  known  object  is  simply  a 
product  of  our  mental  organization,  and  that  we  know 
directly  only  our  internal  or  subjective  modifications? 
This  doctrine,  which  is  that  of  idealism,  is  equally  op- 
posed to  the  scholastic  conception.  For,  according  to 
the  latter,  the  real  object  plays  a  part  in  knowledge, 
and  is  present  to  us  in  the  act  of  knowing.  We  directly 
attain  to  reality  and  being,  —  so  much  so  that  the 
process  by  which  reality  acts  upon  us,  the  impression 


MODERATE  REALISM  43 

received,  is  discovered  only  as  the  result  of  reasoning 

(111,1). 

The  epistemology  of  Aquinas  is  thus  a  moderate 
realism,  a  via  media  between  exaggerated  or  naive 
realism,  and  idealism.  We  attain  to  a  reality  itself 
independent  of  our  act  of  knowing,  and  in  doing  so 
we  become  possessed  of  knowledge  which  is  true,  but 
inadequate.  The  process  of  psychological  elaboration 
which  goes  on  in  the  mind  limits  the  field  of  knowledge, 
but  does  not  disfigure  it. 

V.  TJie  nature  of  the  mental  synthesis.  The  second 
problem,  which  we  must  examine  now,  is  to  find  out 
whether  we  have  a  plausible  motive  for  joining  two 
ideas  in  a  judgment,  and  what  is  that  motive.  We  may 
reply  with  Thomas:  "The  motive  for  the  mental 
s^Tithesis  is  the  very  nature  of  the  represented  ob- 
jects." It  is  the  nature  of  what  we  call  water,  ebulli- 
tion; number,  even,  odd,  which  leads  the  mind  to 
unite  them,  in  the  first  case  with,  in  the  second  ease 
without  the  aid  of  experience. 

This  correspondence  between  represented  objects 
constitutes  truth.  As  soon  as  the  connection  between 
the  content  of  the  subject  and  that  of  the  predicate 
appears  to  the  mind,  in  other  words  becomes  evident 
to  it,  the  mind  asserts  it;  and  certainty  is  nothing  but 
the  firm  adhesion  of  the  mind  to  what  it  perceives. 

It  is  important  to  note  that  the  mind  merely  per- 
ceives the  connection,  without  creating  it,  and  herein 
lies  the  difference  between  thomistic  and  kantian 
intellectualism. 

This  doctrine  applies  to  all  judgments,  and  therefore 
to  those  directing  principles  which  we  have  called  the 


44  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

laws  of  universal  intelligibility.  For  instance,  in  the 
principle  of  contradiction,  the  motive  of  our  assertion 
is  our  insight  into  the  incompatibility  of  being  and  non- 
being.  The  question  of  the  applicability  of  these  prin- 
ciples to  existing  beings  follows  immediately,  once  the 
existence  of  such  extra-mental  reality  has  been  proved. 
Given  that  being  exists,  no  matter  of  what  kind,  I  have 
the  right  to  declare  it  incompatible  with  non-being. 
Now  if  there  is  such  a  thing  as  contingent  being,  I  am 
justified  in  applying  to  it  that  which  belongs  to  the  in- 
most nature  of  all  contingent  beings.^ 

Another  corollary  of  this  doctrine  is  that  error  is 
a  property  of  judgment  only.  Error  can  belong  neither 
to  existing  beings,  nor  to  sensations,  nor  to  simple  ap- 
prehensions. Thomas  employs  this  theory  to  solve  the 
problem  of  sense  illusions.  The  senses  aflBrm  nothing: 
they  do  not  reflect  upon  the  data,  but  present  them 
just  as  they  are,  without  any  interpretation.  That 
which  is  sweet  to  the  palate  of  a  healthy  man  appears 
bitter  to  an  invalid.^  Consequently  the  senses  can 
neither  correct  themselves,  nor  find  out  the  causes  of 
their  failures  or  illusions.  Reason  must  intervene  to  test 
and  control,  and  separate  the  true  from  the  false.  Error 
comes  in  with  the  judgment,  for  instance,  when  we 
rely  on  our  sense-perception  in  predicating  an  attribute 
which  the  sensation  in  question  is  not  competent  to 
give  (II,  2) ;  or  else  a  content  which  is  disfigured  be- 
cause of  the  abnormal  condition  of  the  organism.    In 

*  Certainly  the  principles  of  which  we  speak  are  independent  of  experi- 
ence in  the  sense  that  the  bond  of  union  between  the  subject  and  predicate 
does  not  depend  upon  the  existence  of  the  material  universe  (III,  2),  but  if 
this  world  exists  —  and  it  does  exist  —  then  the  principles  of  being  must 
govern  it. 

2  Summa  Theol.,  1%  q.  17,  art.  2.   De  Veritate,  q.  1,  art.  10. 


MODERATE  REALISM  45 

any  case,  we  possess  means  of  controlling  the  illusions 
of  the  senses,  and  an  illusion  which  is  capable  of  control 
is  no  longer  really  deceptive. 

VI.  Conclusion.  We  perceive  directly  reality  itself, 
and  not  our  subjective  modification  of  it.  We  perceive 
it  thanks  to  a  close  collaboration  between  sense  and 
intellect.  The  abstractive  work  of  the  mind,  either 
superficial  or  jjrofound,  accompanies  all  our  sense 
knowledge,  and  the  mind  has  a  tendency  to  unify  all 
the  data,  and  to  arrive  at  an  intelligible  object  that  is 
increasingly  complete.  The  mind  is  ever  on  the  look- 
out for  being,  and  seizes  it  whenever  it  presents  itself. 
Intellectus  potest  quodammodo  omnia  fieri.  —  "The  mind 
can  in  a  way  become  all  things."  But  it  grasps  reality 
imperfectly.  The  reflective  study  of  the  epistemological 
problem  throws  light  upon  the  spontaneous  operation 
of  the  mind. 

Reflection  makes  it  evident  that  truth  is  found  only 
in  a  judgment.  Secundum  hoc  cognoscit  veritatem  intel- 
lectus quod  supra  se  ipsum  reflectitur.  —  The  mind 
knows  truth  inasmuch  as  it  reflects  back  upon  itself. 
It  also  makes  it  evident  that  mind  in  its  spontaneous 
judgments  seizes  reality.  Therefore  Thomas  is  led  to 
add  that  mind  is  made  naturally  to  attain  reality,  in 
cujus  natura  est  ut  rebus  conformatur .^ 

Taking  what  precedes  into  consideration,  we  may 
sunmiarize  thomistic  doctrine  in  that  well-known 
formula,  current  in  the  thirteenth  century :  truth  is  the 
correspondence  between  reality  and  the  mind,  Veritas 
est  adaequatio  rei  et  intellectus. 

'  Dc  Veritale,  q.  1,  art.  9. 


CHAPTER  VII 

DESIRE  AND  FREEDOM 

I.  Two  forms  of  appetition. 

II.  Sense  appetite  and  the  passions. 

III.  The  will:  its  necessity  and  freedom. 

IV.  Sentiments. 

V.   Foreign  influences  and  the  will. 

I.  Two  forms  of  appetition.  Side  by  side  with  the  life 
of  knowledge,  there  is  in  us  a  certain  vital  tendency 
which  leads  us  to  seek  for  something  other  than  our- 
selves, with  the  object  of  taking  possession  of  it,  and 
thereby  procuring  for  ourselves  some  benefit.  We  wish 
to  go  for  a  walk,  we  long  for  a  house  of  our  own  to  live 
in,  we  seek  to  meet  a  friend.  These  examples  show  us 
that  not  only  the  external  object,  but  also  the  exercise 
itself  of  our  activities  may  become  the  subject  matter 
of  our  desire.  But  whatever  it  may  be  that  we  desire, 
in  every  case  we  find  that  the  motive  which  prompts 
our  appetite  is  the  benefit  or  the  fulfillment  which  the 
object  or  activity  in  question  will  obtain  for  us.  For 
man,  like  all  other  creatures,  is  only  attracted  by  that 
which  is  good  for  him  (VIII,  7)  or,  at  least,  that  which 
in  appearance  is  such. 

In  point  of  fact,  our  desires  are  directed  towards  a 
specific  object  only  if  it  appears  to  be,  that  is,  is  known 
by  us  as  suitable  for  us.  Nihil  volitum  nisi  cognitum.  — 
"Nothing  is  desired  unless  it  is  first  known."  Appeti- 
tion is  the  tendency  or  inclination  of  a  knowing  sub- 
ject towards  what  it  perceives  as  good.    And  just  as 

46 


DESIRE  AND  FREEDOM  47 

knowledge  is  twofold  in  kind,  so  also  the  tendency 
which  follows  upon  knowledge  will  differ,  according  as 
it  succeeds  an  act  of  sense  perception  or  an  abstract 
representation.  The  former  is  given  the  name  of  sense 
appetite;   the  latter  is  referred  to  as  the  will. 

II.  Sense  appetite  and  the  passions.  External  and  in- 
ternal sensations  may  arouse  our  desires  if  they  repre- 
sent to  us  the  attractions  of  external  objects,  or  the 
charm  or  pleasure  which  accompanies  the  very  ex- 
ercise of  our  faculties.  And  since  every  sensation  has 
a  particularized,  concrete  content  (II,  2)  it  will  be  this 
particular  object  of  sense,  or  this  individual  sense 
activity  which  we  wish  to  attain  or  accomplish  when 
our  appetite  is  set  in  motion. 

The  higher  animals  share  with  us  certain  sense 
movements  which  accompany  our  sense  appetitions, 
such  as  love  and  hatred,  courage,  fear  and  anger. 
These  emotions  —  or  as  the  Schoolmen  called  them, 
these  passions — are  situated  in  the  organism,  and  are 
by  nature  organic  like  the  sensations  and  the  sense  ap- 
petitions, Thomas  and  the  Schoolmen  do  not  consider 
a  passion  as  being  of  another  kind  than  the  sense 
appetition,  which  they  accompany  and  intensify.  If 
these  passions  or  movements,  which  impel  us  towards  a 
particular  good  or  away  from  a  particular  evil  present 
in  sense  perception,  become  violent  and  escape  the 
control  of  reason,  they  disturb  and  may  even  dominate 
us  completely. 

III,  The  will:  its  necessity  and  freedom.  In  addition 
to  these  perceptions  of  some  particular  good  offered  by 
the  senses,  we  possess  a  higher  notion  of  that  which  is 
good:    the  idea  of  goodness  as  such.    It  needs  little 


48  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

reflection  to  realize  that  the  good  can  be  thought  of 
without  limits,  complete  in  itself,  and  universal.  An 
irresistible  impulse  presses  us  towards  the  good  as  such, 
which  we,  human  beings,  alone  among  material  crea- 
tures, are  capable  of  conceiving.  We  are  conscious  of 
a  deep,  insatiable  need  of  uniting  ourselves  to  that 
which  is  capable  of  perfecting  us  in  every  way  and  for- 
ever. It  is  a  need  which  is  ever  present,  and  acts  upon 
us  just  as  a  weight  attached  to  a  lever  continually 
exercises  a  downward  pull.  To  this  extent  and  in  this 
sense  the  ivill  is  necessitated  or  deteniiined,  and  is  in  a 
state  of  continual  activity.  This  impulsion  towards 
that  which  is  suitable  for  us  manifests  itself  in  the 
initial  attraction  which  we  experience  in  the  presence 
of  any  object  which  we  look  upon  for  the  time  being 
as  good,  without  attending  to  its  drawbacks.  If  the 
mind  were  to  find  itself  in  the  presence  of  a  real  being 
which  possessed  the  plenitude  of  goodness  (and  ac- 
cording to  scholastic  philosophy,  God  answers  to  this 
description)  the  will  would  see  in  it  its  object  par 
excellence,  that  which  is  capable  of  satisfying  all  its 
needs,  and  it  would  cast  itself  towards  God  as  iron 
towards  a  magnet. 

But  it  so  happens  that  in  the  field  of  our  earthly 
activity  we  are  confronted  only  by  partially  good 
things,  and  as  soon  as  we  reflect  we  become  conscious 
of  this  limitation.  It  is  thus  in  such  a  judgment  follow- 
ing reflection  that  Thomism  finds  the  explanation  of 
liberty.  Each  good  thing  is  good  only  from  certain 
points  of  view,  and  is  deficient  from  others.  Conse- 
quently, the  intellect  presents  us  with  two  judgments. 
During  the  war,  a  soldier  was  often  asked  to  volunteer 
for  a  task  which  must  lead  to  certain  death,  and  heroi- 


DESIRE  AND  FREEDOM  49 

cally,  but  freely,  responded  to  the  call.  When  he  decided 
after  a  short  reflection  to  die  for  his  country,  he  was 
subject  to  the  general  attraction  of  that  which  is  good 
(necessitated  will),  but  he  also  found  himself  in  the 
presence  of  two  contradictory  judgments:  "to  pre- 
serve one's  life  is  good"  (from  one  point  of  view),  "not 
to  preserve  one's  life  is  also  good"  (i.e.,  in  certain 
cases,  from  another  point  of  view) .  Thus  we  are  called 
to  judge  and  to  choose  between  two  contradictory 
judgments.  Which  shall  I  accept.^  It  is  the  will  which 
must  make  the  choice,  and  the  decision  will  be  quite 
free,  since  neither  judgment  demands  necessarily  our 
assent.  We  choose  freely  the  good  as  offered  by  one 
of  both  judgments,  not  because  it  is  a  greater  good, 
but  because  it  possesses  some  good. 

It  is  true  in  a  sense  that  we  choose  that  which  we 
consider  to  be  the  better.  But  to  be  quite  accurate, 
we  ought  to  add  that  there  is  a  free  intervention  of  the 
will  in  deciding  what  is  better.  In  point  of  fact,  the 
will  can  give  its  preference  to  either  of  the  alternatives, 
by  loading  the  scale  as  it  were.  When  the  moment 
comes  for  definitive  choice,  deliberation  ceases  and  gives 
way  to  decision.  By  means  of  this  analysis,  Aquinas 
and  Duns  Scotus  avoided  the  psychological  determin- 
ism which  appealed  to  other  Schoolmen,  —  such  as 
Godfrey  of  Fontaines,  and  John  Buridan. 

Liberty  or  freedom,  of  which  we  have  just  explained 
the  psychological  process,  manifests  itself  in  two  forms: 
exercise  of  will,  and  choice.  In  the  fonner,  I  decide  to 
will,  or  to  abstain  from  willing  and  choosing,  and  I 
differ  my  decision  to  some  other  time,  —  just  as  a 
citizen  may  decide  to  put  a  cross  against  the  name  of 
a  candidate,  or  else  may  refuse  to  vote.   This  is  known 


50  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

as  liberty  of  exercise  {lihertas  exercitationis) .  In  the 
second  case,  I  decide  to  will,  and  to  choose  one  of  two 
possible  good  things,  like  the  elector  who  marks  the 
ballot  paper  according  to  his  preference,  and  this  is 
liberty  of  specification  {lihertas  sjpecificationis) .  For 
instance,  shall  I  go  for  a  voyage  or  not?  It  rests  with 
me  to  differ  my  decision  or  to  decide  at  once.  The 
Schoolmen  also  spoke  of  a  third  form  of  liberty:  the 
moral  value  of  the  voluntary  act.  Of  this  we  shall 
speak  later  on  (XII,  3). 

In  every  case  it  is  easy  to  see  that  willing  and  liberty 
belong  to  the  domain  of  consciousness,  that  external 
violence  as  such  does  not  affect  it,  and  that  the  carrying 
out  of  actions  is  a  result  of  a  free  decision,  but  cannot 
constitute  its  essence.  This  does  not  mean  that  liberty 
is  incapable  of  intensification  or  weakening  by  foreign 
elements. 

IV.  Sentiments.  Before  touching  on  the  intensification 
or  weakening  of  our  free  acts  by  other  elements,  it  is 
well  to  note  that  affective  states  which  precede  our 
volitions,  such  as  hope  or  despair,  or  which  follow  it, 
as  pleasure  or  pain,  etc.,  are  regarded  by  the  School- 
men as  modifications  of  the  volitions  themselves, — 
just  as  the  passions  are  modifications  of  the  sense- 
appetitions.  They  are  simply  certain  modes  of  being 
of  our  desires  in  relation  to  an  object.  In  conseciuence, 
pleasure  and  pain  reside  and  have  their  seat  in  the 
desire  itself,  of  which  they  are  a  sort  of  tonality.  And 
just  as  any  and  every  expenditure  of  conscious  energy 
may  become  the  object  of  desire,  and  be  willed  for  the 
sake  of  the  benefit  derived  from  it,  so  in  the  same  way 
the  cause  or  source  of  pleasure  is  the  conscious  activity 


DESIRE  AND  FREEDOM  51 

itself,  when  accompanied  by  certain  conditions.  Thus, 
in  the  apt  expression  of  Aristotle,  the  pleasure  of  an 
activity  (as  for  instance  walking,  or  devoting  oneself 
to  something)  forms  a  complement  of  the  activity  itself 
*'as  bloom  in  the  case  of  youth. "  ^ 

It  follows  from  what  we  have  said  that  Scholasticism 
knows  nothing  of  a  threefold  division  of  our  psychic 
activities  such  as  that  introduced  by  Tetens  and  Kant, 
who  distinguished  between  knowledge,  appetition,  and 
sentiment.  The  last  named  is  regarded  instead  as  a 
natural  dependent  or  the  sense  appetite  of  the  will. 

V.  Foreign  influences  and  the  will.  Since  liberty  pre- 
supposes a  mind  which  reflects  upon  and  judges  its  own 
judgment,  it  is  itself  a  reaffirmation  of  the  prestige 
enjoyed  by  the  intelligence,  undisputed  monarch  of 
our  life  as  human  beings.  It  is  the  mind  which  illumines 
our  free  choice,  and  clear  mental  vision  is  the  primordial 
condition  of  the  normal  exercise  of  liberty. 

But  it  is  a  matter  of  ordinary  experience  that  our 
deliberations  are  affected  by  motives  other  than  the 
real  value  of  the  objects  under  consideration.  We  are 
liable  to  be  influenced  by  our  emotions,  passions,  senti- 
ments, and  may  be  overcome  by  their  disordered  prompt- 
ings, unless  we  take  the  precaution  to  discipline  them 
by  our  reason.  Or  again,  our  spontaneous  sympathy  or 
preference  for  one  of  the  alternatives  may  obscure  the 
real  value  of  the  objects  of  choice.  Prout  unusquisque 
affectus  est,  ita  judical.  As  each  one  is  inclined  by  his 
affection,  so  he  judges.  Anything  which  clarifies  the 
mental  vision  of  things  increases  thereby  our  liberty, 
and  conversely,  whatever  darkens  the  intelligence  dimin- 

'  Aristotle,  Ethic.  Nicom.,  L.  X,  cap.  4. 


52  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

ishes  our  freedom.  In  the  same  way,  threats,  terrorism, 
external  violence,  or  organic  disturbances  may  suppress 
completely  the  exercise  of  reason  and  therefore  leave  no 
place  for  liberty  in  a  particular  case. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  man  who  is  master  of  himself 
can  enlist  his  passions,  tendencies  and  pleasures  in  the 
service  of  a  free  decision  and  strengthen  his  liberty  with 
all  their  psychological  power.  Such  would  be  an  ex- 
plorer, or  a  missionary  who  found  in  his  ardent  tempera- 
ment various  elements  which  helped  him  to  will  more 
effectively  and  intensely  a  task  freely  chosen. 

The  interaction  of  the  various  activities  of  knowledge 
and  of  desire,  and  their  dependence  on  the  organism  — 
which  cannot  be  treated  here  in  detail  —  lead  us  on 
to  another  doctrine,  that  of  the  unity  of  the  ego.  It  is 
for  didactic  reasons  that  we  have  isolated  our  cognitive 
operations  from  our  desires.  In  point  of  fact,  the  inter- 
dependence which  we  have  already  noticed  between 
them  shows  that  they  are  not  juxtaposed  like  squares 
on  a  draught  board,  but  might  rather  be  said  to  com- 
penetrate  each  other.  We  shall  see  later  that  all  the 
human  functions  arise  from  one  single  source  (X). 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDUALS 

I.  The  Universe  a  collection  of  individual  things. 

II.  Substance  and  Accidents. 

III.  Quantity,  action,  quality. 

IV.  Space  and  Time. 
V.  Relations. 

VI.   Grades  of  reality  and  multiplicity  in  each  grade. 
VII.    Internal  unity,  truth,  goodness. 
VIII.   Scholasticism  the  sworn  enemy  of  Monism. 

I.  The  Universe  a  collection  of  individual  things.  Let  us 
imagine  for  one  moment  that  by  some  great  cosmic 
cataclysm  the  activity  and  movement  of  the  universe 
were  suddenly  brought  to  a  stop,  and  that  we  were  in 
a  position  to  dissect  at  our  leisure  the  reality  of  which 
the  universe  is  made  up,  in  the  same  way  that  archae- 
ologists excavate  and  study  the  interior  of  a  house  in 
Pompeii.  What  would  a  similar  analysis  of  the  world 
we  live  in  reveal  to  the  mind  of  a  mediaeval  schoolman?  ^ 
We  should  see  in  the  first  place  that,  in  addition  to 
the  human  race,  there  are  thousands  of  other  beings  in 
existence,  and  that  each  one  of  these  is  a  concrete  in- 
dividual thing,  independent  of  and  incommunicable  to 
every  other  in  its  inmost  nature,  recalling  the  Trpoorr] 
ovaia  of  Aristotle  or  the  monad  of  Leibnitz.  Individuals 
alone  exist.  We  should  find  this  individuality  realized 
in  each  plant  and  animal  in  the  domain  of  life,  and,  as 

*  We  pass  over  the  scholastic  doctrine  concerning  the  constitution  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  for  the  sake  of  brevity. 

58 


54  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

for  the  inorganic  world,  in  the  particles  of  the  four 
elements  (air,  water,  fire,  earth)  or  else  in  a  compound 
resulting  from  their  combination  and  itself  possessing 
a  specific  state  of  being  (mixtum).  The  chemistry  of 
the  Middle  Ages  was  very  rudimentary,  and  contained 
a  mixture  of  truth  and  falsehood.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  metaphysics,  although  closely  bound  up  with  this 
chemistry,  is  of  an  independent  development.  Indeed, 
it  belongs  to  the  particular  sciences  to  determine  what 
is  the  primordial  particle  of  corporeal  matter  in  each 
case.  It  matters  little  to  the  metaphysician  whether 
this  turns  out  to  be  the  molecule  or  the  atom  (or  even 
the  ion  or  electron) .  Let  us  suppose  that  it  is  the  atom : 
then  the  Schoolmen  would  say  that  the  atoms  of  oxygen, 
chlorine,  etc.,  are  the  real  individuals  of  the  inorganic 
world,  it  is  to  them  that  existence  primarily  belongs, 
and  they  alone  possess  internal  unity. 

What  is  the  nature  of  these  individual  realities,  which 
make  up  the  universe.'* 

II.  Substance  and  Accidetits.  Let  us  examine  more 
attentively  any  one  of  the  many  things  which  surround 
us  on  all  sides,  —  a  particular  oak  tree,  for  instance. 
This  particular  individual  thing  possesses  many  char- 
acteristics: it  has  a  definite  height,  a  trunk  of  cylin- 
drical form  and  of  a  definite  diameter,  its  bark  is 
rugged,  or  'gnarled'  as  the  poets  say,  its  foliage  is  of  a 
somber  color,  it  occupies  a  certain  place  in  the  forest, 
its  leaves  exercise  a  certain  action  upon  the  surrounding 
air,  and  itself  is  in  turn  influenced  by  things  external 
to  itself  by  means  of  the  sap  and  the  vitalizing  elements 
which  it  contains.  All  these  are  so  many  attributes  or 
determinations  of  being,  or,  to  use  the  scholastic  ter- 


A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDUALS  55 

minology,  so  many  'categories,'  —  quantity,  quality, 
action,  passion,  time,  space,  relation. 

But  all  the  above  categories  or  classes  of  reality 
presuppose  a  still  more  fundamental  one.  Can  any- 
one conceive  the  being  'courageous'  without  someone 
who  is  courageous.^  Can  one  conceive  quantity,  thick- 
ness, growth,  and  the  rest,  without  something  —  our 
oak  tree  in  the  above  instance  —  to  which  they  belong? 
Neither  the  action  of  growing,  nor  the  extension  which 
comes  from  quantity,  can  be  conceived  as  independent 
of  a  subject.  This  fundamental  subject  Aristotle  and 
the  Schoolmen  after  him  call  the  substance.  The  sub- 
stance is  reality  which  is  able  to  exist  in  and  by  itself 
(ens  per  se  sians) ;  it  is  self-sufficient.  It  has  no  need 
of  any  other  subject  in  which  to  inhere,  but  it  is  also 
the  support  of  all  the  rest,  which  therefore  are  called 
accidents,  —  id  quod  accidit  alicui  rei,  that  which  super- 
venes on  something.  1 

Not  onlv  is  it  true  that  we  conceive  material  realities 
in  terms  of  substance  and  accidents,  —  and  no  philoso- 
phy denies  the  existence  in  our  minds  of  these  two  con- 
cepts —  but  also  that  substance  and  accidents  exist 
independently,  and  outside  our  minds.  In  the  order 
of  real  existence,  as  in  the  order  of  our  thought,  sub- 
stance and  accidents  are  relative  to  each  other.  If  we 
succeed  in  proving  the  external  existence  of  an  accident 
(the  thickness  of  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  for  instance), 
we  thereby  demonstrate  the  existence  of  the  substance 
(i.e.,  the  tree).  If  the  act  of  walking  is  not  an  illusion, 
but  something  real,  the  same  must  be  equally  true  of 

'  "An  accident  need  not  be  accidental  in  our  use  of  the  word,  but  it  must 
be  incidental  to  some  being  or  substance. "  —  Wicksteed,  Pir.ll.  The  reac- 
tions between  dogma  and  philosophy,  illustrated  from  the  worlcs  of  S.  Thomas 
Aquinas.    London,  19£0,  p.  421, 


56  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

the  substantial  being  who  walks,  and  without  whom 
there  would  be  no  act  of  walking. 

Locke  and  many  others  have  criticized  the  scholastic 
theory  of  substance.  Their  objections,  however,  rest 
on  a  twofold  misconception  of  what  that  theory  in- 
volves. First,  it  is  supposed  that  one  claims  to  know 
wherein  one  substance  differs  from  another.  Now 
scholastic  philosophy  never  pretended  to  know  wherein 
one  substance  differed  from  another  in  the  external 
world.  The  concept  of  substance  was  arrived  at  not 
as  the  fruit  of  an  intuition,  but  as  the  result  of  a  reason- 
ing process,  which  does  not  tell  us  what  is  specific  in 
each  substance,  but  only  that  substances  are.  We 
know  that  they  must  exist,  but  never  what  they  are. 
Indeed,  the  idea  of  substance  is  essentially  meager  in 
content.  We  must  repeat  that  we  have  no  right  to 
demand  from  a  theory  explanations  which  it  does  not 
profess  to  give. 

A  second  misconception,  that  we  can  easily  dispose  of, 
represents  the  substance  of  a  being  as  something  simply 
underlying  its  other  attributes.  To  suppose  that  we 
imagine  something  lying  behind  or  underneath  the 
accidents,  as  the  door  underlies  the  painted  color,  is 
simply  to  give  a  false  interpretation  of  the  scholastic 
theory,  and  of  course  there  is  no  difficulty  in  exposing 
this  conception  to  ridicule.  But  the  interpretation  is 
erroneous.  Substance  and  accidents  together  con- 
stitute one  and  the  same  concrete  existing  thing.  In- 
deed, it  is  the  substance  that  confers  individuality  upon 
the  particular  determinations  or  accidents.  It  is  the 
substance  of  the  oak  tree  which  constitutes  the  founda- 
tion and  source  of  its  individuality,  and  thus  confers 
this  individuality  upon  its  qualities,  its  dimensions,  and 


A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDUALS  57 

all  the  series  of  accidental  determinations.  This  tout 
ensemble  of  substance  and  accidental  determinations, 
taken  all  together,  exists  by  virtue  of  one  existence, 
that  of  the  concrete  oak  tree  as  a  whole.  This  doctrine 
will  be  developed  in  the  next  chapter,  where  we  will 
consider  the  function  of  substance  in  the  cycle  of  cosmic 
evolution. 

No  less  than  the  substance  of  the  individual  man  or 
oak  tree,  the  series  of  determinations  which  affect  it 
deserve  our  careful  attention.  Are  the  figure,  rough- 
ness, strength,  etc.,  distinct  realities  existing  in  one 
which  is  more  fundamental,  and  if  so  in  what  sense? 

To  ask  this  question  is  tantamount  to  asking  what 
are  these  determining  or  supervening  states,  which 
qualify  a  man  or  an  oak  tree  as  rough,  strong,  occupying 
space. ^  Let  us  review  the  chief  classes  of  accidents, 
namely  quantity,  action,  quality,  space  and  time, 
relation. 

III.  Quantity,  action,  quality.  The  substantial  subject 
which  I  call  Peter,  or  any  particular  lion,  does  not 
occupy  a  mere  mathematical  point:  its  body  is  made 
up  of  parts  in  contact  with  each  other  (quantity)  and 
which  also  exist  outside  each  other  (extension).  The 
internal  order  which  is  the  result  of  this  juxtaposition 
constitutes  the  internal  or  private  space  or  place  of  the 
body  in  question.  Extension  does  not  constitute  the 
essence  of  a  material  thing  (as  Descartes  taught),  but 
it  is  its  primar^^  real  attribute  or  property  {proprium), 
naturally  inseparable  from  it,  and  the  one  concerning 
which  our  senses  give  us  the  most  exact  information 
(VI,  2). 

'  It  is  clear  from  the  above  that  substance  is  not  quite  the  same  as  essence. 
Substance  has  its  own  essence,  and  accidents  have  theirs. 


58  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

At  the  moment  when  we  imagined  a  sudden  petri- 
fication as  it  were  of  the  universe,  all  these  quantified 
subjects  were  engaged  in  mutual  action  and  reaction. 
Chemical  elements  were  in  processes  of  combination  or 
disassociation ;  external  objects  were  giving  rise  to 
visual  sensations  in  the  eyes  of  animals  and  men.  For, 
every  substance  is  active  —  so  much  so  that  its  activity 
forms  a  measure  of  its  perfection  {agere  sequitur  esse, 
activity  follows  upon  existence)  —  and  if  a  being  were 
not  endowed  with  activity,  it  would  lack  a  sufficient 
reason  for  its  existence.  The  action  performed  or 
undergone  is  a  real  modification  of  being,  and  cannot 
be  denied  unless  we  fly  in  the  face  of  evidence.  It  is 
clear,  for  instance,  that  the  thought  of  an  Edison  en- 
riches the  reality  of  the  subject  involved.  Of  course, 
we  do  not  understand  the  how,  or  in  what  way  a  being 
A,  independent  of  B,  can  nevertheless  produce  an  effect 
in  B.  Once  again  we  must  not  demand  from  a  theory 
that  which  it  does  not  pretend  to  give. 

A  quality  of  a  being,  according  to  the  view  of  the 
Schoolmen,  modifies  it  really  in  some  specific  character, 
and  allows  us  to  say  of  what  kind  it  is  (qualis). 
Rigorously  speaking,  this  is  not  a  definition,  as  the 
notion  is  too  elementary  to  be  strictly  definable.  The 
natural  figure  or  shape,  for  instance  a  face  or  a  mouth 
of  a  certain  type,  belongs  to  the  group  of  qualities 
(figura) .  It  arises  from  the  disposition  or  arrangement 
of  quantified  parts,  but  it  determines  the  being  other- 
wise than  in  its  mere  extension. 

Beside  the  figure  of  a  being,  the  Schoolmen  introduce 
a  second  group  of  qualities,  consisting  of  the  intrinsic 
powers  of  action,  or  capacities,  —  reservoirs,  as  it  were, 
from  which  the  action  flows  —  for  instance,  when  we 


A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDU.\LS  59 

say  of  a  man  that  he  is  intelligent  or  strong-willed.  They 
are  known  as  powers  {jpotentiae)  in  general,  and  as  'fac- 
ulties' in  the  case  of  man.  Thomas  maintains  that 
every  limited  being  acts  by  means  of  principles  of  action. 
Only  the  Infinite  Being  acts  directly  through  its  sub- 
stance, because  in  Him  existing  and  acting  are  identical. 
Finally,  experience  shows  that  faculties,  by  being 
exercised,  acquire  a  certain  real  pliability  or  facility 
which  predisposes  them  to  act  more  easily  or  with  more 
energy.  The  professional  competency  of  an  artisan, 
the  muscular  agility  of  a  baseball  player,  the  clear- 
headedness of  a  mathematician,  the  moral  strength  of 
a  temperate  or  just  man,  —  are  all  dispositions  more 
or  less  permanent,  lasting  'habits,'  'virtues,'  which 
vary  in  different  subjects,  but  all  of  which  enrich  the 
being  of  the  one  possessing  them,  since  they  collaborate 
with  the  power  of  action  regarded  as  a  whole. 

IV.  Space  and  Time.  We  can  only  touch  on  the  ques- 
tion of  space,  which  Aquinas,  in  common  with  other 
Schoolmen,  considers  at  great  length  —  not  only  the 
internal  space  proper  to  each  body  and  which  he  iden- 
tifies with  its  material  enclosure,  but  space  as  a  whole, 
the  result  of  the  juxtaposition  of  all  existing  bodies. 
This  space  is  obviously  a  function  of  the  material 
things  which  actually  exist.  The 'multitude'  of  such 
beings  might  be  without  limit,  for  there  is  no  contra- 
diction in  supposing  an  indefinite  multitude  of  material 
things  each  occupying  an  internal  space  finite  in  extent. 
Space  as  a  whole,  therefore,  being  the  sum  of  these  in- 
dividual spaces,  might  be  indefinite. 

In  the  opinion  of  Thomas,  time  is  really  the  same  as 
the  continuous  movement  or  change  in  which  all  real 


60  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

beings  are  involved.  But  there  is,  by  a  mere  mental 
activity,  a  breaking  up,  a  numbering  of  this  continuous 
movement  into  distinct  parts,  which  in  consequence 
necessarily  appear  to  be  successive.  Tempus  est  nu- 
merus  motus  secundum  prius  et  posterius  ^  is  the  preg- 
nant definition  which  Thomas  borrows  from  Aristotle. 
Time  is  the  measure  of  the  (continuous)  change,  which 
the  mind  views  as  a  succession  of  parts.  The  present 
and  fleeting  state  of  a  changing  being  is  alone  real  and 
existing.  In  the  supposition  of  a  motionless  world 
which  we  made  above,  the  present  time  would  be  a  cross 
section  of  the  universe,  in  its  actual  state,  viewed  in 
relation  to  the  past  and  to  the  future.  Now,  since  the 
multiplicity  of  beings  is  not  necessarily  limited,  we 
may,  by  a  process  similar  to  our  reasoning  on  space,  con- 
clude that  time,  the  measure  of  changes  which  have 
really  taken  place  or  will  take  place  in  the  future,  may 
also  be  without  limit  in  either  direction. ^ 

V.  Relations.  Passing  over  the  passive,  intransitive 
state  (for  instance,  the  state  of  being  sad)  which  the 
Schoolmen  regarded  as  a  reality  distinct  from  the  sub- 
ject which  it  affects,  there  remains  the  last  of  the  cate- 
gories, namely,  relation.  By  means  of  this,  the  millions 
of  beings  which  make  up  the  universe,  were,  at  the  mo- 
ment when  we  have  supposed  them  to  be  arrested  in 
their  course,  all  bound  up  in  a  close  network.  By  virtue 
of  relations  some  things  are  for  other  things,  or  stand 
in  a  particular  way  towards  other  things  (ad  alterum). 

1  De  tempore,  cap.  2. 

^  Concrete  space  and  time  just  discussed  are  altogether  different  from 
ideal  space  and  time,  which,  by  a  process  of  abstraction  and  universaliza- 
tion,  are  separated  from  all  relation  to  our  universe  and  can  be  applied 
mentally  to  an  indefinite  number  of  possible  worlds. 


A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDUALS  61 

For  instance,  it  is  in  virtue  of  a  relation  that  several 
men  are  greater  or  smaller  than  others,  stronger  or 
weaker,  more  virtuous  or  vicious,  jealous  of  others,  well 
or  badly  governed,  etc.  Is  the  relation  'greater  than' 
distinct  from  the  size  or  quantity  of  the  thing  in  ques- 
tion, the  quantity  being  obviously  the  foundation  of 
the  relation?  Thomas  replies  in  the  negative,  and  he 
would  not  have  allowed  that  these  relations  have  a 
separate  reality  of  their  own.  My  being  greater  or 
smaller  than  some  particular  African  negro  is  not  a  new 
reality  added  to  my  figure  or  to  my  absolute  size; 
otherwise,  while  retaining  continuously  the  same  figure, 
I  should  be  constantly  acquiring  or  losing  realities, 
every  time  that  African  negroes  increased  or  diminished 
their  size,  which  is  evidently  ridiculous. 

Let  us  continue  the  investigation  of  our  dead  uni- 
verse. For  there  are  two  other  static  aspects  of  the 
ensemble  of  things:  their  hierarchical  arrangement  and 
multiplicity  on  the  one  hand,  and  certain  attributes 
known  as  the  '  transcendentals '  on  the  other. 

VI.  Grades  of  reality  and  multiplicity  in  each  grade. 
Although  each  material  thing  is  itself,  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  there  are  many  men  all  belonging  to  the  same 
kind,  in  that  these  individuals  possess  a  substantial 
perfection  which  is  similar.  On  the  other  hand,  being 
'man'  and  being  an  'oak'  belong  to  different  grades 
of  reality. 

The  explanation  is  that  every  material  substance  has 
within  itself  a  specific  principle  (we  shall  call  it  later 
substantial  form),  and  the  specific  principle  of  the  oak 
is  altogether  different  from  that  of  man,  that  of  oxygen 
from  that  of  hydrogen,  and  so  on.    The  universe  of  the 


62  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Schoolmen  is  hierarchically  arranged  or  graded,  not 
merely  by  quantitative  differences  (mechanistic  theory) 
but  according  to  their  internal  perfection  (dynamism). 
A  consequence  of  this  is  that  the  substantial  perfection 
of  man  or  oak  tree  does  not  admit  of  degrees.^  One  is 
either  a  man  or  one  is  not:  we  cannot  be  things  by 
halves.  Essentia  (id  est  substantia)  non  suscipit  plus  vel 
minus.  —  Essence  or  substance  does  not  admit  of 
more  or  less.  The  substance  of  man  is  the  same  in  kind 
in  all  men.  From  this  there  will  follow  certain  im- 
portant social  consequences  which  we  shall  take  up 
later. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  see  in  one  and  the  same  sub- 
stantial order  of  reality  an  indefinite  number  of  distinct 
individuals.  Whether  we  consider  the  past  or  the 
future,  there  are  millions  of  oak  trees,  millions  of  men. 
Are  individuals  belonging  to  the  same  species  just 
doubles  or  copies  of  each  other.'*  Have  different  men 
or  different  oak  trees  exactly  the  same  value  as  realities? 
No.  Although  their  substantial  perfections  are  the 
same  in  nature  and  value,  their  accidents  differ,  and 
especially  their  qualities,  quantity,  and  actions.  Men 
or  oak  trees  are  born  with  different  natural  aptitudes, 
and  their  powers  of  action  differ  in  intensity.  Even 
two  atoms  of  hj^drogen  (supposing  the  atom  to  be  the 
chemical  unit)  occupy  different  places  and  have  different 
surroundings,  which  is  sufficient  to  differentiate  them. 
Equality  of  substance,  and  inequality  of  accidents  is  the 
law  which  governs  the  distinction  of  individuals  pos- 
sessing the  same  grade  of  being  so  far  as  substantial 
perfections  are  concerned.    We  shall  see  that  the  exist- 

'  It  is  based  ultimately  upon  an  unchangeable  relation  with  God,  whose 
perfection  it  imitates. 


A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDUALS  63 

ence  of  men  together  in  society  is  simply  an  application 
of  this  principle. 

VII.  lyiternal  uniiy,  truth,  goodness.  Since  every  being, 
which  really  exists  or  is  capable  of  existing,  is  itself  an 
individual,  it  possesses  internal  unity.  Ens  et  unum 
cotivertuntur,  —  being  and  unity  are  mutually  con- 
vertible terms.  Unity  is  simply  an  aspect  of  being. 
Parts  of  a  thing,  whether  they  are  material  or  other- 
wise, all  coalesce  and  do  not  exist  for  themselves,  but 
for  the  individual  whole.  We  must  be  careful  here  to 
avoid  a  wrong  interpretation  of  this  doctrine.  The 
unity  in  question  is  the  unity  of  the  individual  being,  as 
found  in  nature;  thus  the  unity  of  a  man,  an  animal, 
a  plant,  or  an  atom.  The  unity  of  such  an  individual 
is  quite  distinct  from  that  of  a  natural  collection  (e.g., 
a  mountain,  or  a  colony  in  biology),  or  an  artificial  one 
(such  as  a  motor  car,  or  a  house).  To  these  we  attribute 
a  nominal  unity,  for  they  are  in  themselves  a  collection 
of  millions  of  individual  things,  united,  in  ways  more 
or  less  intricate,  by  means  of  accidental  states.  A 
society  of  men  is  a  unit  of  this  kind. 

Everything  can  become  the  object  of  intelligence, 
and  in  this  sense,  which  we  have  met  above  (VI,  6), 
everything  is  true. 

Again  each  being  aims  at  some  end  by  means  of  its 
activities,  and  that  end  is  its  own  good  or  perfection. 
There  would  be  no  sufficient  reason  for  a  being  to  act, 
except  for  that  which  is  suitable  for  itself  {bonum  sibi). 
Hence  good  is  called  "that  which  all  things  desire," 
honum  est  quod  omnia  appetunt.  Each  thing  is  good 
in  itself,  and  for  itself.  St.  Augustine  remarks  that  this 
is  true  even  of  such  things  as  the  scorpion,  for  its  poison 


64  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

is  harmful  only  to  other  beings.  This  tendency  towards 
well-being,  which  is  deeply  rooted  in  everything,  mani- 
fests itself  in  a  way  conformable  to  the  specific  nature 
of  each  being.  It  is  blind  and  unconscious  in  the  stone 
which  falls,  or  in  a  molecule  which  is  governed  by  its 
chemical  affinities;  it  is  conscious  but  necessitated  or 
'determined,'  as  moderns  say,  in  a  savage  beast  in 
presence  of  its  prey;  it  may  be  conscious  and  in  addi- 
tion it  may  be  free  in  the  case  of  man. 

Unity,  truth,  goodness,  are  called  'transcendental 
attributes,'  because  they  are  not  special  to  some  par- 
ticular class  or  category  of  beings,  but  are  above  classes 
(trans-cendunf)  and  are  found  in  all  and  every  being. 

VIII.  ScJiolasticism  the  sworn  enemy  of  Monism.  The 
individuality  of  a  number  of  beings  involves  their  being 
distinct:  one  substance  is  not  the  other.  Since  the 
universe  is  a  collection  of  individual  things,  scholasti- 
cism is  the  sworn  enemy  of  monism,  which  regards  all 
or  several  beings  as  coalescing  into  one  only.  For 
Aquinas,  monism  involves  a  contradiction.  For,  it 
must  either  deny  the  real  diversity  of  the  various  mani- 
festations or  forms  of  the  One  Being,  and  in  that  case 
we  must  conclude  that  multiplicity  is  not  real  but  an 
illusion;  —  or  else  it  must  viaintain  that  such  diversity  is 
real,  and  then  it  follows  that  the  idea  of  unification  or 
identity  is  absurd. 

In  other  words,  the  diversity  and  mutual  irreducibil- 
ity  of  individual  substances  are  the  only  sufficient  reason 
for  the  diversity  manifested  in  the  universe.  We  shall 
see  later  that  the  analysis  of  the  data  of  consciousness 
furnishes  a  second  argument  against  monism,  so  far  as 
individual  human  beings  are  concerned  (X,  1). 


A  UNIVERSE  OF  INDIVIDUALS  65 

Although  this  reasoning  can  be  apph'ed  to  all  forms 
of  monism,  Thomas  Aquinas  combats  principally  those 
systems  which  were  current  in  his  day,  —  the  extreme 
Metaphysical  Monism  of  Avicebron,  the  Materialistic 
Monism  of  David  of  Dinant,  and  the  Modified  Monism 
or  Monopsychism  of  the  Averroists  of  the  West,  which 
maintained  that  there  is  only  one  human  soul  for  all 
mankind. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE 

I.  Actuality  and  Potentiality. 

II.  The  becoming  of  a  substance. 

III.  Prime  Matter  and  Substantial  Form. 

IV.  Role  of  matter  and  form.     Their  relation. 
V.  Evolution  or  succession  of  forms. 

VI.   Principle  of  individuation. 
VII.   Causality, 
VIII.   Essence  and  existence. 

I.  Actuality  and  Potentiality.  Our  supposition  of  a 
motionless  and  dead  universe  is  after  all  only  an  artifice 
of  our  didactic  method.  For  it  is  evident  that  the 
things  which  we  have  described  are  actors  in  a  cosmic 
drama:  they  are  borne  on  the  stream  of  change,  and 
nothing  is  motionless. 

Molecules  or  atoms,  monocellular  beings  or  organ- 
isms, all  are  subject  to  the  law  of  change.  Substances, 
together  with  their  accidents,  are  constantly  becoming. 
The  oak  tree  develops  from  an  acorn,  it  becomes  tall 
and  massive,  its  vital  activities  are  constantly  subject 
to  change,  and  the  tree  itself  will  eventually  disappear. 
So  also  the  lion  is  born,  develops  and  grows,  hunts  its 
prey,  propagates  its  kind,  and  finally  dies.  Again, 
human  life,  both  in  its  embryonic  and  more  developed 
forms,  is  a  ceaseless  process  of  adaptation.  If  we  wish 
to  understand  the  full  meaning  of  reality,  we  must 
throw  being  into  the  melting  pot  of  change.  Thus  the 
static  point  of  view,  or  the  world  considered  in  the 
state  of  repose,  must  be  supplemented  by  the  dynamic 

66 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE  67 

point  of  view,  or  that  of  the  world  in  the  state  of  be- 
coming. Here  we  come  across  a  further  scholastic 
notion,  —  namelj',  the  celebrated  theory  of  actuality 
and  potentiality,  which  may  well  be  said  to  form  the 
keystone  in  the  vaulting  of  metaphysics. 

This  theory  results  from  an  analysis  of  what  change 
in  general  implies.  What  is  change?  It  is  a  real  pas- 
sage from  one  state  to  another.  Schoolmen  reason  thus : 
If  one  being  passes  from  state  A  to  state  B,  it  must 
possess  already  in  state  A  the  germ  of  its  future  deter- 
mination in  state  B.  It  has  the  capacity  or  potentiality 
of  becoming  B,  before  it  actually  is  B.  To  deny  this 
quasi-preexistence,  in  fact,  involves  the  denial  of  the 
reality  of  change,  or  evolution  of  things.  For,  what  we 
call  change  would  then  simply  be  a  series  of  instan- 
taneous appearances  and  disappearances  of  realities, 
with  no  internal  connection  whatever  between  the  mem- 
bers of  the  series,  each  possessing  a  duration  infinites- 
imally  small.  The  oak  tree  must  be  potentially  in  the 
acorn:  if  it  were  not  there  potentially,  how  could  it  ever 
issue  from  it.^  On  the  other  hand,  the  oak  is  not  poten- 
tially in  a  pebble  rolled  about  by  the  sea,  although  the 
pebble  might  outwardly  present  a  close  resemblance  to 
an  acorn. 

Act  or  actuality  (a&tus)  is  any  present  degree  of 
reality.  Potency'  (potentia)  is  the  aptitude  or  capacity 
of  reaching  that  stage  of  reality.  It  is  imperfection  and 
non-being  in  a  certain  sense,  but  it  is  not  mere  nothing, 
for  it  is  a  non-being  in  a  subject  which  already  exists, 
and  has  within  itself  the  germ  of  the  future  actuali- 
zation.^ 

*  We  deliberately  abstain  from  translating  potentia  by  "power,"  as  is 
sometimes  done.    "Power"  has  practically  always  an  active  sense  which  is 


68  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

The  duality  of  act  and  potency  affects  reality  in  its 
inmost  depths,  and  extends  to  the  composition  of  sub- 
stance and  accident,  matter  and  form. 

II.  The  becoming  of  a  substance.  To  say  that  a  con- 
crete substance  —  for  instance,  this  oak  tree,  this  man 
—  is  in  a  process  of  becoming  means  that  it  is  realizing 
or  actualizing  its  potentialities.  A  child  is  already  po- 
tentially the  powerful  athlete  he  will  some  day  become. 
If  he  is  destined  to  become  a  mathematician,  then  al- 
ready in  the  cradle  he  possesses  this  aptitude  or  pre- 
disposition, whereas  another  infant  is  deprived  of  it. 
All  increase  in  quantity,  all  new  qualities,  activities 
exercised  and  undergone,  all  the  new  relations  in  which 
the  subject  in  question  will  be  engaged  with  surround- 
ing beings,  all  its  various  positions  in  time  and  space, 
were  capable  of  coming  to  existence,  before  being  in 
fact.  Substance  is  related  to  its  accidents  like  potential- 
ity to  actuality. 

Viewed  in  the  light  of  this  theory,  the  doctrine  of 
substance  and  accident  loses  its  naive  appearance.  A 
growing  oak,  a  living  man,  a  chemical  unit,  or  any  one 
of  the  millions  of  individual  beings,  is  an  individual 
substance  which  is  in  a  process  or  state  of  becoming, 
inasmuch  as  its  quantity,  qualities,  activities,  and  rela- 
tions are    actualizations   of    the  potentialities  of   the 

completely  absent  from  potentia  when  contrasted  with  actus.  An  example 
will  make  our  meaning  clear.  A  sculptor  is  in  potentia  to  the  carving  of  a 
statue,  but  it  is  equally  true  that  the  block  of  marble  is  in  potentia  to  be- 
coming the  statue.  We  should  say  that  the  sculptor  had  the  "power"  to 
make  the  statue,  but  we  should  hardly  say  that  the  block  of  marble  had  the 
"power"  of  becoming  the  statue.  Hence  the  objection  to  the  use  of  the  word 
"power"  here.  A  thing  is  in  potency  to  that  which  will  become,  whether 
by  its  own  activity,  or  the  activity  of  something  else. 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE  69 

substance.  Leibnitz  was  in  point  of  fact  following  this 
thomistic  doctrine  when  he  said:  "the  present  is  preg- 
nant with  the  future." 

But  while  Leibnitz  taught  also  the  eternity  and  the 
immutability  of  substances,  which  he  called  monads, 
Aquinas  and  the  Schoolmen  went  further  into  the  heart 
of  things.  It  is  not  only  the  quantity  or  quality  which 
changes  when,  for  example,  an  oak  tree  grows,  or  its 
wood  becomes  tougher,  it  is  not  merely  its  place  which 
changes  when  it  is  transplanted,  or  its  activities  which 
develop, —  in  all  these  cases  it  is  the  substance,  the 
oak  tree,  which  is  so  to  speak  the  subject  of  these  acci- 
dental  changes.  But  the  very  substance  of  a  body  may 
be  carried  into  the  maelstrom,  and  nature  makes  us 
constant  witnesses  of  the  spectacle  of  substantial  trans- 
formation. The  oak  tree  dies,  and  from  the  gradual 
process  of  its  decomposition  there  come  into  actual  exist- 
ence chemical  bodies  of  various  kinds.  Or  an  electric 
current  passes  through  water:  and  behold  in  the  place 
of  water  we  find  hydrogen  and  oxygen. 

III.  Prime  Matter  and  Substantial  Form.  When  one 
substance  changes  into  another,  each  has  an  entirely 
different  specific  nature.  An  oak  never  changes  into 
another  oak,  nor  one  particle  of  water  into  another. 
But  out  of  a  dying  oak  tree,  or  a  decomposed  particle 
of  water,  are  born  new  chemical  bodies,  with  quite 
different  activities,  quantities,  relations,  and  so  on. 
Substances  differ  not  only  in  degree,  but  in  kind. 

Let  us  look  more  closely  into  this  phenomenon  of 
basic  change  from  one  substance  into  another,  or  into 
several  as  in  the  case  of  water  and  the  hydrogen  and 
oxygen  which  succeed  it.    If  Aquinas  had  been  asked 


70  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

to  interpret  this  phenomenon,  he  would  have  said  that 
every  substance  that  comes  into  being  in  this  way 
consists  ultimately  of  two  constituent  elements  or  sub- 
stantial parts:  on  the  one  hand,  there  must  he  something 
common  to  the  old  state  of  being  and  the  new  —  to 
water  and  hydrogen  for  instance  —  and  on  the  other 
hand  there  must  be  a  specific  principle  proper  to  each. 
Without  a  common  element,  found  equally  in  the  water 
and  in  the  hydrogen  and  oxygen,  the  one  could  not  be 
said  to  'change'  into  the  other,  for  there  would  be  no 
transposition  of  any  part  of  the  water  into  the  resulting 
elements,  but  rather  an  annihilation  of  the  water,  fol- 
lowed by  a  sudden  apparition  of  hydrogen  and  oxygen. 
As  for  the  specific  principle,  this  must  exist  at  each 
stage  of  the  process  as  a  peculiar  and  proper  factor 
whereby  the  water  as  such  differs  from  the  hydrogen 
or  oxygen  as  such. 

This  brings  us  to  the  theory  of  "primary  matter"  and 
"substantial  form"  which  is  often  misunderstood.  It  is 
in  reality  nothing  more  than  an  application  of  the  theory 
of  actuality  and  potency  to  the  problem  of  the  trans- 
formation of  bodies:  before  the  change,  hydrogen  and 
oxygen  were  in  the  water  potentially.  The  primary 
matter  is  the  common,  indeterminate  element  or  sub- 
stratum, capable  of  receiving  in  succession  different 
determinations.  The  substantial  form  determines  and 
specifies  this  potential  element,  and  constitutes  the 
particular  thing  in  its  individuality  and  specific  kind 
of  existence.  It  enables  it  to  be  itself  and  not  some- 
thing else.  Each  man,  lion,  oak  tree,  or  chemical  unit 
possesses  its  form,  that  is,  its  principle  of  specific  and 
proper  reality.  And  this  principle  or  form  of  any  one 
thing  is  not  reducible  to  that  which  is  proper  to  an- 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE  71 

other.  The  form  of  an  oak  tree  is  altogether  distinct 
from  that  of  man,  hydrogen,  and  so  on. 

IV.  Role  of  matter  and  form.  Their  relation.  Each 
thing  that  concerns  the  state  of  indetermination  of  a 
being  follows  from  its  i)rime  matter.  This  applies 
especially  to  quantitative  extension;  for,  to  possess 
quantitative  parts,  scattered  in  space,  is  to  be  unde- 
termined. 

On  the  other  hand,  each  thing  that  contributes  to 
the  determination  of  a  being  —  its  unity,  its  existence, 
its  activities  —  is  in  close  dependence  upon  the  formal 
principle.  Thus  form  unifies  the  scattered  parts,  it 
provides  the  substance  with  actual  existence  and  is  the 
basic  root  of  all  specific  activity. 

It  follows  from  the  above  that  matter  and  form  can- 
not be  found  independently  of  one  another  in  beings 
which  are  ]3urely  corporeal.  They  compenetrate  each 
other  like  roundness  and  a  round  thing.  To  speak  of 
a  prime  matter  existing  without  a  form,  says  Thomas, 
is  to  contradict  oneself,  for  such  a  statement  joins 
existence  —  which  is  determination  —  with  the  notion 
of  prime  matter  —  which  is  that  of  indetermina- 
tion. ^ 

We  may  now  come  back  to  the  conception  of  individ- 
ual substance  from  which  we  started  (VIII,  1).  A 
corporeal  being  consists  of  two  substantial  parts  — 
matter  and  form  —  neither  of  which  is  complete.  Only 
the  being  resulting  from  the  union  of  both  is  a  complete 

'  It  is  iiiiporlaiil  to  note  tliat  primary  matter  {materia  prima)  is  alto- 
gether distinct  from  matter  as  understood  by  modern  science.  Matter  as 
now  understood  signifies  a  substaiKC  of  a  particular  kind  (comprising 
'matter'  and  'suhstaiitia!  form'  of  the  Schoolmen)  together  with  extension 
in  space,  which  is  an  'accident.' 


72  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

or  individual  substance,  to  which  belongs  the  proper 
perfection  of  self-sufficiency  and  of  being  incommuni- 
cable to  any  other. 

V.  Evolution  or  succession  of  forms.  The  material  uni- 
verse presents  us  with  an  harmonious  evolution.  Reality 
mounts  step  by  step  from  one  specific  nature  to  another, 
following  a  certain  definite  order.  Nature  changes  water 
into  hydrogen  and  oxygen,  but  it  does  not  change  a 
pebble  into  a  lion;  nor  'can  one  make  a  saw  out  of 
wool.'  Things  evolve  according  to  certain  affinities,  and 
in  a  certain  order,  the  investigation  of  which  is  the 
work  of  the  particular  sciences,  and  calls  for  patient 
observation.  If  there  are  any  leaps  in  Nature,  they 
are  never  capricious.  Every  material  substance,  at 
every  stage  and  at  every  instant,  contains  already  the 
germs  of  what  it  will  be  in  the  future.  This  is  what  is 
meant  by  the  scholastic  formula  which  states  that 
"primary  matter  contains  potentially,  or  in  promise, 
the  series  of  forms  with  which  it  will  be  invested  in  the 
course  of  its  evolution."  Prime  matter  is  related  to 
each  substantial  form,  like  potentiality  to  actuality. 
Hence,  to  ask,  as  some  do,  where  the  forms  are  before 
their  appearance,  and  after  their  disappearance,  is  to 
reveal  a  misunderstanding  of  the  scholastic  system. 

To  sum  up.  Two  kinds  of  change  suffice  to  explain 
the  material  world.  We  have  firstly  the  development 
of  substances  already  constituted;  thus  an  oak  tree  is 
undergoing  development  or  change  in  its  activities,  its 
quantity,  qualities,  and  relations,  but  it  retains  through- 
out the  same  substance :  the  change  undergone  is  called 
accidental.  In  the  second  place,  we  have  the  change  of 
one  substance  into  another  or  into  several,  such  as  the 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE  73 

change  of  an  oak  tree  into  a  collection  of  chemical 
bodies:    this  change  is  called  substantial. 

Thus  the  evolution  of  the  cosmos  is  explained  as  a 
combination  of  fixity  and  movement.  Beings  evolve, 
but  everything  is  not  new:  something  of  the  past  re- 
mains in  the  present,  and  will  in  turn  enter  into  the 
constitution  of  the  future.  The  scholastic  theory  of 
the  process  of  change  is  a  modified  one,  a  via  media 
between  the  absolute  evolution  of  Heraclitus  and  the 
theory  of  the  fixity  of  essences  which  so  much  attracted 
Plato. 

VI.  Principle  of  individuation.  The  theory  of  matter 
and  form  also  explains  another  scholastic  doctrine,  that 
of  the  princii)le  of  individuation.  The  problem  to  be 
solved  is  this:  How  is  it  possible  that  there  should  be 
so  many  distinct  individualities  possessing  the  same 
substantial  perfection,  or  'of  the  same  kind,'  as  we 
say.''  Why  are  there  millions  upon  millions  of  oak  trees, 
and  not  only  one,  corresponding  to  one  forma  querci, 
one  'oak  tree  form'.^  Why  should  there  be  millions 
of  human  beings  instead  of  one  only.'  If  everything  was 
unique  in  this  way,  the  universe  would  still  manifest  a 
scale  of  perfection,  but  there  would  be  no  two  material 
things  of  one  and  the  same  kind.  One  thing  would  differ 
from  another  specifically,  as  the  number  'three'  differs 
from  the  number  'four.' 

The  '  monads '  of  Leibnitz  present  us  with  a  conception 
of  the  world  more  or  less  on  these  lines.  But  the  thomist 
solution  is  more  profound.  It  is  summed  up  in  this 
thesis.  Extension  —  which  pertains  to  prime  matter  —  is 
the  principle  of  individnation. 

My  body  has  the  limitation  of  extension,  and  in  con- 


74  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

sequence  there  is  room  for  your  body,  and  for  millions 
of  others  besides  ours.  An  oak  tree  has  a  Hmited  ex- 
tension in  space,  and  at  the  point  where  it  ceases  to 
occupy  space  there  is  room  for  others.  In  other  words, 
without  extension,  or  extended  matter,  there  would  be 
nothing  which  could  render  possible  a  multitude  of 
individuals  of  the  same  kind.  For,  if  we  consider  form 
alone,  there  is  no  reason  why  there  should  be  a  multi- 
plication of  a  given  form,  or  why  one  form  should  thus 
limit  itself,  instead  of  retaining  and  expressing  within 
itself  all  the  realization  of  which  it  is  capable.  Forma 
irrecepta  est  illimitata.  —  "A  form  which  is  not  received 
in  anything,  i.e.,  an  isolated  form,  is  not  limited  or  con- 
fined." But  the  case  is  different  if  the  principle  of  de- 
termination is  one  which  must  take  on  an  extended 
existence. 

There  is  an  important  consequence  which  follows 
directly  from  this  doctrine.  If  there  exist  some  beings 
which  are  not  corporeal,  and  whose  principle  of  reality 
has  nothing  to  do  with  extension  and  prime  matter  (pure 
forms;  pure  Intelligences,  for  instance),  then  no  re- 
duplication or  multiplication  is  possible  in  that  realm 
of  being.  Each  individual  will  differ  from  one  another 
as  the  oak-form  differs  from  the  beech-form  or  the  hy- 
drogen-form. 

The  last  point  explains  why  the  problem  of  individua- 
tion is  different  from  that  of  individuality.  Each 
existing  being  is  an  individuality,  and  therefore  a  Pure 
Intelligence  if  such  exists,  also  God,  is  an  individuality. 
But  individuation  means  a  special  restricted  kind  of 
individuality,  i.e.,  a  reduplication  or  multiplicity  of 
identical  forms  in  one  group;  hence  the  term  specific 
groups,  species. 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE  75 

VII.  Causality.  The  theory  of  cause  is  a  complement 
of  the  theory  of  actuality  and  potentiality,  for  it  explains 
how  the  actualizing  of  a  potency  takes  place  in  any 
given  being.  Causality'  is  fourfold,  because  there  are 
four  ways  of  regarding  the  factors  which  account  for 
the  evolution  of  individual  substances. 

(a)  The  first  and  most  apparent  is  efficient  causality. 
It  is  the  action  by  reason  of  which  a  being  A  which  is 
capable  of  becoming  A'  actually  becomes  X'.  This  action 
comes  from  without.  No  being  which  changes  can  give 
to  itself,  without  some  foreign  influence,  this  comple- 
ment of  reality  by  virtue  of  which  it  passes  from  one 
state  into  another.  Quidquid  movetur  ah  alio  ryiovetur: 
whatever  changes  is  changed  by  something  other  than 
itself.  For  if  a  thing  could  change  its  own  state  (whether 
substantial  or  accidental),  unaided,  it  would  possess 
before  acquiring;  it  would  already  be  what  it  is  not  yet, 
which  is  contradictory  and  impossible.  Water  is  capable 
of  changing  into  oxygen  and  hydrogen,  but  without  the 
intervention  of  an  electric  current  or  something  else  it 
would  never  of  itself  take  on  these  new  determinations. 
A  being  which  changes  is  of  course  a  being  which  does 
not  exist  necessarily  in  this  state  of  change.  Hence  the 
principle:  whatever  changes  is  changed  by  something 
other  than  itself,  is  an  application  of  this  more  general 
principle:  the  existence  of  a  non-necessary  being  de- 
mands an  efficient  cause  (IV,  2). 

However,  this  acting  cause  is  itself  subject  to  the 
process  of  becoming.  The  electrical  energy  could  not 
manifest  itself  unless  it  is  affected  in  its  turn  by  the 
action  of  other  efficient  causes.  The  whole  process 
resembles  tliat  which  happens  when  a  stone  is  thrown 
into  still  water:   the  waves  spread  out  from  the  center, 


76  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

each  producing  the  next  in  succession.  Moreover,  there 
is  an  additional  compHcation,  for  every  action  of  a 
being  A  upon  another  B  is  followed  by  a  reaction  of  B 
upon  A.  Nature  is  an  inextricable  tissue  of  efficient 
causes,  developments,  passages  from  potency  to  actual- 
ity. Newton's  Law  of  Gravitation,  the  Law  of  the  Equi- 
librium of  Forces,  the  Principle  of  the  Conservation  of 
Energy,  are  all  so  many  formulas  which  set  forth  in 
precise  terms  the  influence  of  one  being  upon  another. 
Actions  and  reactions  establish  close  connections  be- 
tween substances  which  are  independent  in  their  in- 
dividuality. 

(b)  and  (c).  In  addition  to  the  efficient  cause,  scho- 
lasticism attributes  a  causal  role  to  matter  and  to  form, 
inasmuch  as,  in  giving  themselves  to  each  other,  these 
two  constitute  and  explain  the  being  which  results 
from  their  combination.  A  particle  of  oxygen  has  for 
its  constituent  causes  an  undetermined  element  (primary 
matter),  and  a  specifying  element  (substantial  form), 
just  as  in  turn  the  oak-substance  or  marble  (secondary 
matter),  together  with  the  cylindrical  shape  or  the 
human  figure  (accidental  form),  are  constituent  causes 
of  a  particular  oak  tree  as  a  whole,  or  of  a  particular 
statue. 

(d)  Lastly,  we  have  the  final  cause.  The  activities 
which  flow  from  each  individual  being  do  not  develop 
simply  at  random.  Water  is  not  indifferent  to  boiling 
at  90°  C.  or  100°  C:  if  it  were  so,  we  might  expect  to 
find  all  sorts  of  capricious  jumps  in  nature.  Since  the 
same  activities  and  transformations  are  continually 
recurring,  we  infer  that  there  is  in  each  being  an  inch- 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE  77 

nation  to  follow  a  certain  path,  to  obey  certain  laws. 
Deus  imprimii  ioii  naiurae  principia  propriorum  achnnn. 
—  God  has  impressed  upon  every  nature  the  principles 
of  its  peculiar  activities. ^  This  inclination,  which  is 
rooted  in  the  substantial  form,  and  tends  to  produce 
the  appropriate  activities,  constitutes  the  internal 
finality  of  each  being.  It  is  always  present,  even  when 
an  obstacle  prevents  its  full  exercise.  Natura  non  deficit 
in  necessariis. — Nature  does  not  fail  in  necessary  things. 

In  spite  of  disorders  which  appear  at  the  surface  of  the 
physical  world,  and  in  spite  of  moral  evil,  both  of  which 
result  from  the  contingent  and  imi:)erfect  character 
of  the  world,  the  internal  finality  proper  to  each  being 
in  the  universe  leads  up  to  another  finality,  —  which 
is  external.  The  courses  of  the  stars,  the  recurrence  of 
seasons,  the  harmony  of  terrestrial  phenomena,  the 
march  of  civilization,  are  all  indications  of  a  cosmic 
order  which  is  not  the  work  of  any  single  being  —  not 
even  of  man  —  but  which  proves  to  the  mind  of  a 
Schoolman  the  existence  of  a  Supreme  Ruler  of  all, 
endowed  with  wisdom.  Dante  receives  his  inspiration 
from  scholasticism,  when  he  concludes  the  Divine 
Comedy  by  singing  of  the  universal  attraction  of  the 
world  ever  drawn  towards  its  goal,  which  can  only  be 
God.2 

This  twofold  doctrine  of  internal  and  external  finality' 
furnishes  us  with  a  strong  teleological  interpretation  of 
the  universe. 

The  hierarchical  order  that  exists  between  the  four 
causes    results    from    their   nature.     Finality    attracts 

1  Summa  ThcoL,  I"  II"",  q.  93,  art.  5. 
^  L'Araor  chc  muove  il  sol  e  I'altre  stclle. 


78  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

(consciously  or  not)  and  persuades  a  being  to  exercise 
its  activities.  Efficient  causality  tends  towards  the 
end  in  view,  and  the  result  of  action  is  a  new  union  of 
matter  and  form.  When  an  artist  undertakes  to  chisel 
a  statue,  it  is  his  purpose  which  directs  the  designs,  the 
choice  of  the  material,  the  chiseling  itself.  The  first 
intention  of  the  artist  is  the  last  thing  to  be  realized. 
It  is  not  otherwise  with  the  aim  of  nature :  in  the  order 
of  intention  the  final  cause  comes  first;  but  in  the  order 
of  execution  it  is  the  last  to  be  realized. 

VIII.  Essence  and  existence.  We  have  not  yet  exhausted 
the  analysis  of  reality.  Each  individual  has  been  dis- 
tinguished into  substance  and  accident,  and  in  every 
material  substance  we  have  found  matter  and  form. 
In  all  these  stages  we  have  been  studying  essence, 
*  what  the  thing  is.'  Essence,  however,  has  existence,  and 
existence  presents  us  with  a  quite  new  aspect  of  reality. 
Existence  is  the  supreme  determination  of  any  being 
{actus  primus) .  Without  existence,  the  several  essential 
elements  which  we  have  been  considering  would  be 
merely  possible;  they  would  resemble  the  legendary 
horse  of  Roland,  which  possessed  all  perfections,  but 
did  not  exist. 

Moreover,  these  manifold  essential  elements  (matter, 
form,  accidents)  do  not  exist  in  separation.  They  exist, 
says  Aquinas,  by  virtue  of  one  existence  alone.  It  is 
the  concrete  oak  tree  which  exists,  the  concrete  lion,  the 
actual  man,  Pasteur  or  Edison. 

The  theory  of  essence  and  existence  completes  the 
analysis  of  reality.  We  shall  return  to  it  in  another 
chapter  (XI,  2).  We  must  first  indicate  the  place  of 
man  in  the  world  which  we  have  been  studying,  and 


THE  PROCESS  OF  CHANGE 


79 


expound  a  body  of  doctrines  sometimes  known  as  the 
metaphysical  side  of  scholastic  psychology. ^ 


*  Scheme  of  metaphysical   doctrines  explained  in   Chapters  VIII,   IX, 
XI,  2. 

f  Prime  matter  (materia  prima) 
Substance  <  Substantial  form  (forma  sub- 


Essence  (essentia) 


(substantia)        [        stantialis) 


Accidents 
(accidentia) 


'  Quantity 

Action 

Quality  (shape,  power,  habits) 

Time 

Space 
.  Relation 


Existence  (esse) 

The  relation  of  act  and  potentiality  is  to  be  found:  (a)  between  accident 
and  substance,  (6)  between  form  and  matter,  (c)  between  existence  and 
essence. 


CHAPTER  X 

SOUL  AND  BODY 

I.  The  substantial  Ego. 

II.  Plurality  of  faculties. 

III.  Soul  and  body. 

IV.  Organic  character  of  human  operations. 
V.  Spirituality,  Simplicity,  Immortality. 

I.  The  substantial  Ego.  The  subject  matter  of  scholastic 
psychology  is  not  mere  consciousness,  or  any  single 
human  function,  but  the  whole  man,  the  ego  with  the 
manifold  activities  of  which  he  is  the  source.  Even 
organic  operations  of  nutrition  and  locomotion  were 
dealt  with  in  psychology.  All  these  functions  arise 
from  one  single  source:  the  human  ego.  It  is  the  same 
ego  that  eats,  digests,  moves,  knows,  wills,  or  suffers. 
This  is  so  true  that  the  intense  exercise  of  one  function 
can  hinder  the  exercise  of  others.  Thus,  when  I  am 
digesting  my  dinner,  I  find  the  work  of  thought  more 
difficult. 

The  ego  is  a  substance,  in  other  words  a  reality  which 
is  capable  of  existing  by  itself,  in  the  sense  that  it  does 
not  exist  m  sovietJiing  else  (VIII,  2).  Moreover,  the  ego 
is  an  individual  or  complete  substance.  It  is  only  the 
individual  human  being  as  a  whole  that  exists.  To  such 
an  individual  we  give  the  name  of  'person,'  in  order  to 
bring  out  the  fact  that  in  the  human  species  the  in- 
dividual subject  is  endowed  with  reason.  The  defini- 
tion of  Boethius  still  holds  good:  persona  est  rationalis 
naturae  individua  substantia,  an  individual  substance 

80 


SOUL  AND  BODY  81 

of  a  rational  nature.  The  true  and  unique  human  reality 
is  therefore  this  particular  human  substance,  fhis  in- 
dividual human  being,  which  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
things  is  this  person.  To  speak  of  'collective  personality,' 
or  of  a  personality  which  would  include  other  persons 
as  parts,  is  to  weave  a  concept  from  mutually  contra- 
dictory notions.  Indeed  the  members  of  such  a  collec- 
tive personality  could  not  themselves  be  persons,  since 
a  person  must  be  independent  of  all  other  beings. 
]Moreover  consciousness  naturally  protests  against  the 
compenetration  of  my  ego  with  another.  We  need 
not  add  that  such  a  compenetration  would  mean  the 
destruction  of  the  freedom  of  the  individual.  Already 
we  can  see  why  scholastic  moral  and  social  philosophy 
emphasizes  the  value  of  individual  personality,  the 
psychological  foundations  of  which  are  here  laid  down. 

How  does  Thomas  Aquinas  prove  the  substantial 
and  individual  nature  of  the  ego.'  He  does  so  in  arguing 
from  consciousness,  which  testifies  to  its  existence  and 
to  its  peri7iane?ice.  Consciousness  directly  grasps  my 
substantial  ego  in  and  through  my  activities.  In  think- 
ing, in  taking  decisions,  in  walking,  I  attain  to  my  own 
existing  substance.  However,  it  is  important  to  note, 
that  consciousness  reveals  only  the  existence  of  the 
ego,  and  teaches  us  nothing  concerning  its  inmost 
nature.  It  tells  us  that  the  ego  exists,  not  in  what  it 
consists.  The  best  proof  of  this  is  the  disagreement 
amongst  thinkers  concerning  the  nature  of  the  ego,  of 
the  soul,  or  of  man  in  general. 

The  pennanence  of  the  ego,  as  witnessed  by  memory, 
furnishes  another  demonstration  that  it  is  really  and 
truly  an  individual  substance.  At  the  present  moment 
I  realize  that  I  am  the  same  person  that  I  was  five  years 


82  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

ago,  in  spite  of  my  many  changes  and  activities  since 
then.  This  permanence  is  an  indication  of  the  fact 
that  I  exist  in  myself,  by  my  own  right,  so  to  speak. 

II.  Plurality  of  faculties.  In  order  to  harmonize  the 
unity  of  the  ego  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  varied  char- 
acter of  its  functionings  on  the  othei*,  Scholasticism 
attributes  such  activities  as  cannot  be  mutually  identified, 
such  as  nutrition,  movement,  sense  knowledge,  knowl- 
edge by  abstraction,  will,  to  immediate  sources  known 
as  'faculties'  (VIII,  3).  Thomas  maintained  that  these 
faculties  are  really  distinct  from  the  ego.  Doubtless,  in 
the  last  analysis,  it  is  the  man  who  acts,  but  he  acts  by 
means  of  his  faculties,  which  are  deeply  rooted  in  what 
may  be  called  the  substance  of  the  man,  but  are  at  the 
same  time  distinct  from  it.  Moreover,  Thomas  teaches 
that  man's  faculties  of  action  are  not  only  distinct 
from  his  substance,  but  that  they  are  also  really  dis- 
tinct from  each  other,  e.g.,  intelligence  from  will.  He 
bases  this  teaching  upon  the  fact  that  they  mutually 
influence  each  other,  and  that  one  and  the  same  thing 
cannot  be  the  subject  and  object  of  an  action. 

This  already  shows  us  that  the  whole  doctrine  is  the 
result  not  of  an  intuition  but  of  a  reasoning  process. 
The  classification  of  the  proximate  principles  of  human 
action  or  faculties  reduces  itself  to  a  catalogue  of  those 
activities  of  the  ego  which  cannot  be  identified  with 
each  other.  It  is  not  a  psychological,  but  a  metaphys- 
ical explanation.  Consciousness  tells  us  nothing  about 
the  faculties  or  energies  of  the  ego,  apart  from  their 
exercise.  Apart  from  thought,  the  mind  remains  a 
mystery  to  itself  forever.  "The  human  intellect  has 
within  itself  the  power  of  understanding,  but  not  of 


SOUL  AND  BODY  83 

being  understood  except  in  so  far  as  it  is  in  a  state  of 
activity'''  ^  There  are  no  means  of  getting  at  the  mind- 
in-itself,  nor  of  saying  beforehand,  as  Fichte  did,  what 
objects  it  is  capable  of  attaining.  Nor  does  the  theory 
of  facuhies  tell  us  anything  more  concerning  the  pre- 
cise nature  of  the  action.  For  instance,  to  know  that 
vision  is  a  faculty  adds  nothing  to  our  understanding 
of  the  activity  of  sight  itself,  but  it  sheds  light  upon 
the  internal  constitution  of  the  acting  subject;  from  the 
specific  differences  of  human  activities,  it  becomes  evi- 
dent that  manifold  principles  of  action  must  exist  in 
one  subject.  Critics  of  this  theory  must  bear  in  mind 
the  elementary  principle  that  we  must  not  demand  from 
the  theory  of  faculties  what  it  does  not  profess  to  give. 
The  same  reasoning  process  which  informs  us  of  the 
existence  of  faculties  also  teaches  us  that  the  ego  is 
composed  of  a  soul  and  a  body. 

III.  Soul  and  body.  The  substantial  ego,  or  human 
individual,  is  not  a  simple  being,  but  one  composed  of  a 
body  and  a  soul.  This  leads  us  to  the  current  definition 
of  man:  a  'rational  animal'  (definition  by  logical  parts) 
or  'a  compound  of  body  and  soul'  (definition  by  real 
parts).  Like  the  other  living  substances  —  plant  or 
animal,  unicellular  or  higher  organism  —  man  is  re- 
garded as  a  compound  made  up  of  a  body  which  plaj's 
the  part  of  'matter'  and  of  a  soul  which  acts  as  the 
'substantial  form.'  If  we  recall  what  has  been  said  in 
the  previous  chapter  about  matter  and  form,  we  shall 
understand  the  role  of  the  soul  and  the  body  in  man. 

In  the  first  place,  since  man  really  is  a  single  whole, 
he  is  not  a  compound  of  two  independent  substances, 

I  Summa  TheoL,  I",  q.  87,  art.  1. 


84  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

as  Plato  and  Augustine  held,  but  one  substance.  It  is 
true  that  the  extended  body  and  the  soul  are  parts  of 
man,  and  parts  of  a  substantial  kind,  since  neither  the 
soul  nor  the  body  exist  in  something  else;  but  neither 
the  soul  nor  the  body  alone  is  complete,  or  individual. 
Soul  compenetrates  body  to  the  very  essence  of  its 
being;  they  give  themselves  to  each  other,  and  thus 
form  one  unit. 

This  leads  us  to  a  second  doctrine  which  is  another 
application  of  the  theory  explained  above.  Since  the 
human  soul  plays  the  role  of  substantial  form,  it  confers 
on  the  whole  individual  man  his  specific  character 
(IX,  4).  It  is  on  account  of  his  soul,  which  is  higher  in 
the  scale  of  perfection  than  the  vital  principles  of 
animals  and  plants,  that  the  functions  of  man  include 
the  specific  human  powers  of  knowledge  and  will. 
Similarly,  the  functions  of  animals  are  wider  than  those 
of  plants  because  of  the  specific  differences  of  their 
vital  principle,  as  the  vital  principle  of  the  lion  differs 
from  that  of  the  rose  tree.  And  in  general  all  living 
creatures  are  different  from  and  superior  to  inorganic 
bodies,  such  as  a  molecule  of  water  or  a  loadstone, 
because  they  possess  a  form  which  is  superior  in  per- 
fection to  any  form  found  in  the  inorganic  world.  The 
human  soul  organizes  its  body  from  within  and  makes 
it  its  own  body,  by  continually  influencing  and  com- 
penetrating  it,  and,  when  death  puts  an  end  to  this 
union,  the  body  ceases  to  be  human  and  becomes 
something  else. 

It  is  because  of  this  organizing  role  that  Aquinas 
holds  fast  to  the  unity  of  the  human  soul,  and  this  is 
a  third  doctrine  which  we  want  to  emphasize.  The 
question  of  the  unity  or  plurality  of  the  soul  was  a 


SOUL  AND  BODY  85 

subject  of  heated  discussions.  If  the  individual  is  one 
being,  it  can  only  possess  in  itself  one  organizing  ele- 
ment which  confers  this  unity,  although  this  one  prin- 
ciple, if  it  occupies  a  high  place  in  the  scale  of  beings, 
like  the  human  soul,  possesses  many  kinds  of  activity 
which  are  found  separately  in  inferior  beings.  The 
single  human  soul  embraces  the  vegetative  powers  of 
nutrition  and  reproduction,  the  animal  powers  of  sense 
perception  and  appetition,  and  in  addition  the  powers 
of  rationality.  Here,  as  everywhere  else,  the  psychologi- 
cal thesis  of  the  unity  of  the  soul  is  simply  a  particular 
application  of  the  more  general  metaphysical  doctrine 
of  forms.  There  is  a  doctrinal  solidarity  throughout,  and 
man  takes  his  place  in  the  vast  harmony  of  the  universe. 
Finally  —  and  this  is  a  fourth  application  of  the 
same  general  doctrine  —  the  human  body,  which  plays 
the  role  of  matter,  is  the  reason  of  the  multiplicity  of 
individual  men  within  the  human  race.  It  is  really  the 
human  body,  as  a  product  of  generation,  which  is  the 
principle  of  individuation;  the  precise  reason  why  a 
man  has  such  or  such  a  soul,  with  its  more  or  less 
perfect  potentialities,  is  because  he  has  such  or  such  a 
body.  The  soul  possesses  the  particular  body  for  which 
it  is  fitted.  It  is  true  that  the  generation  of  a  child  is 
nothing  but  the  becoming  of  a  new  substance,  that  its 
development  comprises  several  stages  specifically  differ- 
ent in  kind,  and  each  more  perfect  than  the  one  preced- 
ing, and  that  the  immortal  soul  is  created  by  God  and 
united  to  the  embryo  only  when  the  dispositions  of  the 
new  organism  are  sufficiently  perfect  to  require  union 
with  a  human  soul.  But,  although  the  spiritual  and 
immortal  soul  is  not  a  product  of  generation,  neverthe- 
less the  parents  in  i)roducing  the  body  of  their  child 


86  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

assume  the  responsibility  of  fixing  the  potentialities  of 
its  whole  being.  The  soul  may  be  compared  to  wine, 
which  varies  in  quantity  according  to  the  size  of  the 
cup. 

IV.  Organic  character  of  human  operations.  Since  the 
body  is  everywhere  penetrated  by  the  soul,  since  flesh, 
muscles  and  nerves  derive  from  it  their  qualification  of 
human,  we  can  easily  understand  that  not  only  our 
organic  life,  but  also  our  psychic  life,  is  closely  bound  up 
with  the  organism.  Sensations  and  sense  desires,  which 
man  possesses  in  common  with  other  animals,  have  their 
seat  in  the  organism,  and  are  in  consequence  extended 
and  divisible.  In  the  case  of  abstract  and  universal 
concepts,  scientific  judgments  and  reasoning,  the  will- 
ing of  good  in  general,  and  the  free  choice  of  particular 
goods,  the  soul  is  still  held  to  the  organism,  since  a 
disease  of  the  nerves  is  suflBcient  to  prevent  the  use  of 
reason  and  to  diminish  or  destroy  our  liberty.  But 
there  is  an  important  difference  to  note  here.  The 
normal  condition  of  the  body  is  only  an  external  condi- 
tion: it  is  not  responsible  for  the  existence  of  thought 
or  of  will  in  their  very  essence.  The  body  does  not 
'secrete'  them.  Thought  and  will  are  superior  to  every- 
thing that  is  material. 

Why?  Because  the  human  concept  has  the  royal 
prerogative  of  extending  its  dominion  over  reality,  in 
depriving  it,  by  abstraction,  of  all  that  makes  it  merely 
corporeal,  multiple,  and  tied  to  time  and  space.  It  tran- 
scends the  corporeal.  The  most  profound  notions,  such 
as  those  of  being,  cause,  force,  substance,  have  a  repre- 
sentational content  so  far  detached  from  the  corporeal 
or  sensible  that  there  is  no  contradiction  in  extending 


SOUL  AND  BODY  87 

them  to  reality  which  is  non-corporeal,  or  suprasensible, 
if  such  are  proved  to  exist. 

V.   Spirituality,  Simplicity,  Immortality.    We  have  seen 
that  abstract  knowledge  has  a  content  independent  of 
material  existence.    In  consequence,  the  soul  too  —  of 
which  abstract  knowledge  is  an  activity  —  shares  the 
same  character  of  independence.   The  vital  principle  of 
man  —  the  soul  —  transcends  matter:   it  is  immaterial 
or  spiritual.    If  it  were  otherwise,  the  effect  (thought) 
would  exceed  the  power  of  the  cause,  the  less  would 
produce  the  more  and  this  would  lead  to  the  identity  of 
contradictories.     To  be  spiritual  consists  only  in  being 
able  to  act  and  exist  without  depending  intrinsically  on 
a  corporeal  co-element  or  body.    It  is  true  that  our  ra- 
tional soul  depends  indirectly  on  the  organism  inasmuch 
as  the  soul  draws  from  the  sense  perceptions  material 
for  abstract  knowledge,  and  therefore  the  human  sou) 
naturally  tends  to  be  united  to  a  body.    But  such  a  de- 
pendence does  not  affect  the  very  essence  or  nature  of 
the  soul  which  is  of  a  superior  kind.    Whereas  the  vital 
principles  of  plants  or  animals  are  plunged  in  matter 
{immersa)  the  human  soul  can  subsist  without  body, 
although  the  bodj^  could  not  be  without  the  soul. 

Being  spiritual,  the  soul  has  no  quantitative  or 
material  parts  in  it.  Moreover,  self-consciousness  does 
not  admit  of  internal  composition,  since  it  is  a  process 
by  which  our  soul  imposes  its  whole  self  ui)on  itself 
{reditio  completa).  If  one  folds  a  cori)oreal  thing,  for 
example  a  sheet  of  paper,  only  a  part  covers  another 
part,  but  the  whole  sheet  cannot  be  completely  folded 
upon  itself.  1'lius,  if  tlie  soul  were  composed  of  quanti- 
tative parts  consciousness  would  be  partially  but  not 


88  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

totally  imposed  upon  itself.  Simplicity  means  absence 
of  composition.  It  is  a  perfection  of  course,  since  in 
every  composed  being,  the  parts  are  limits  of  the  whole, 
but  we  grasp  it  by  way  of  negation,  because,  as  has  been 
seen  above  (III,  2),  we  have  no  proper  knowledge  of 
realities  which  go  beyond  the  realm  of  sense  percep- 
tions. 

Simplicity  precludes  the  very  conception  of  dissolu- 
tion; the  soul  is  not  subject  to  death. ^  Only  God  could 
annihilate  it.  As  the  soul  is  naturally  capable  of  sur- 
viving death,  and  as  on  the  other  hand  it  is  naturally 
destined  to  inform  or  determine  a  body  and  to  find  in 
the  senses  the  channels  of  its  knowledge,  a  new  union 
after  death,  with  a  body  which  will  thereby  become  its 
own,  does  not  involve  any  contradiction.  Moreover, 
the  intermediate  state  of  the  disembodied  soul  was 
regarded  as  provisional  and  incomplete. 

In  this  way  the  chain  of  deductions  unfolds  itself, 
as  did  the  great  doctrines  of  Greek  philosophy  (spirit- 
uality, simplicity,  immortality)  which  Aquinas  re- 
garded as  truths  accessible  to  human  intelligence  in 
virtue  of  its  own  powers.  The  arguments  of  Plato's 
Phaedon  are  completed  by  the  reasoning  of  the  De 
Anima  of  Aristotle,  and  the  De  immortalitate  of  Augus- 
tine. The  Schoolmen  without  exception  continue  the 
line  of  Spiritualist  philosophers.  Materialism,  which 
confuses  sensation  and  thought,  and  which  puts  human 
individuality  at  the  mercy  of  ever-changing  chemical 
combinations,  like  a  rose  tree  which  withers  or  a  lamb 
which  is  slaughtered,  has  an  implacable  enemy  in 
Scholasticism. 

'  There  are  other  proofs  which  are  used  in  favor  of  immortality,  such 
as  the  universal  desire  of  survival,  universal  belief  in  life  after  death,  etc. 


SOUL  AND  BODY  89 

On  account  of  the  spirituality  of  his  soul,  man  oc- 
cupies a  central  position  in  the  universe.  He  is  a  spirit, 
but  one  destined  to  display  its  life  in  a  body.  He  is 
midway  between  merely  corporeal  things  and  pure 
spirits.  He  is,  to  use  a  comparison  dear  to  the  Middle 
Ages,  a  microcosm,  for  all  the  perfections  of  reality  as  a 
whole  meet  in  him  in  a  wonderful  alloy. 


CHAPTER  XI 

GOD 

I.  Proofs  of  the  existence  of  God. 

II.  God  is  Infinite  Being  or  pure  existence. 

III.  The  Divine  Attributes. 

IV.  Conclusion. 

I.  Proofs  of  the  existence  of  God.  It  has  been  noticed 
above  that  the  innumerable  individual  beings  which 
make  up  the  universe  are  subject  to  change,  and  that 
the  change  of  anything  whatsoever  takes  place  by  means 
of  the  action  of  some  being  other  than  itself.  It  is  the 
action  of  B  that  causes  A  to  become  A'.  But  the  action 
of  B  itself  implies  a  change  in  B,  and  this  demands  in 
turn  the  concurring  causality  of  C,  and  so  on  (IX,  7). 
We  cannot  continue  this  process  back  to  infinity.  For 
in  that  case  change  would  be  without  a  sufficient  explan- 
ation and  therefore  an  illusion,  whilst  the  existence  and 
reality  of  change  is  one  of  the  most  evident  things  in 
nature.  The  setting  in  motion  of  a  process  of  change 
demands  a  starting  point,  an  initial  impetus,  whence 
the  movement  proceeds.  This  absolute  beginning  is 
possible  only  on  the  condition  that  a  Being  exists  who 
is  beyond  all  change,  —  in  whom  nothing  can  'be- 
come, '  and  who  is  therefore  immutable. 

This  being  is  God.  Now,  God  cannot  set  in  motion 
the  series  of  changes  constituted  by  actuality  and 
potentiality  except  by  an  impulse  which  leaves  free 
and  undisturbed  His  own  impassibility.  For,  if  this 
initial  impulse  were  to  involve  a  modification,  however 

90 


GOD  91 

slight,  in  the  Primary  Being,  such  modification  would 
constitute  a  change,  and  require  the  intervention  of  a 
still  higher  Being.  Thus  the  process  would  be  endless 
unless  God  were  the  'prime  mover,  himself  unmoved.'  ^ 

Let  us  suppose  that  one  decides  to  build  a  house,  and 
that  he  wants  it  to  have  solid  supports.  To  this  end  he 
must  lay  deep  the  foundations  which  are  to  support  the 
building.  He  must  continue  to  dig  until  he  obtains  a 
base  of  absolute  fixity  and  security.  But  obviously  he 
must  finally  call  a  halt  in  this  work  of  excavation,  if 
the  building  is  to  be  commenced  at  all.  We  may  there- 
fore, nay  must,  conclude  that  the  builder  did  in  fact 
halt  at  some  point  in  the  earth,  if  de  facto  the  building 
is  there  before  our  eyes. 

The  same  applies  to  the  scholastic  argument  which 
we  are  considering.  Change  exists  as  a  fact,  even  as 
the  house  in  question  exists  as  a  fact.  Change  stares 
us  in  the  face:  it  is  found  everywhere  in  the  universe. 
But  if  there  were  no  starting  point  in  the  chain  of 
eflScient  causation,  the  change  itself  could  not  exist. 
We  are  not  in  a  position  to  deny  the  existence  of  the 
evolution  of  the  universe:  we  must  therefore  account 
for  it.  To  suppose  an  endless  regressus  in  the  causal 
series  possible  would  be  like  imagining  that  one  can 
suspend  a  weight  from  the  end  of  a  chain  whose  other 
end  simply  does  not  exist,  since  link  is  added  to  link 
to  infinity. 

Change  is  a  certain  indication  of  contingency  or  non- 
necessity, and  this  leads  Thomas  to  a  second  proof  of 
the  existence  of  God,  intimately  related  to  the  preced- 
ing: the  existence  of  non-necessary  beings  demands 
the  existence  of  a  necessary  Being.    As  soon  as  a  non- 

1  Summa  Theol.,  V,  q.  2,  art.  3.     Prima  via. 


92  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

necessary  being  is  represented  as  existing,  it  ought  to 
be  referred  to  an  influence  external  to  itself,  and  here 
again  a  regression  to  infinity  would  not  explain  exist- 
ing reality.  One  must  stop  at  an  absolutely  necessary 
Being  {necessarium  absolutum),  whose  very  essence  it 
is  to  exist,  and  which  finds  its  own  necessity  in  itself. 
Such  a  Being  is  God.^ 

It  is  important  to  notice  that  the  notion  of  contin- 
gency or  non-necessity,  upon  which  the  argument  rests, 
is  independent  of  the  notions  of  time  and  number.  The 
principle  of  causality  does  not  involve  the  concept  of 
time.  For,  even  if  the  series  of  contingent  beings  were 
without  a  beginning,  these  beings  could  not  be  made 
intelligible  without  the  existence  of  a  necessary  Being. 

It  all  comes,  then,  to  this:  if  any  given  thing  is  real, 
the  sum  total  of  all  those  other  things,  without  which 
the  reality  of  that  fact  would  be  inexplicable,  must  be 
no  less  real.  From  the  standpoint  of  metaphysics, 
God  exists  because  the  existence  of  the  Universe  de- 
mands Him.  Hence  the  existence  of  God  is  not,  as  one 
might  suppose,  a  further  mystery  requiring  explanation 
in  addition  to  the  general  mystery  of  the  world.  The 
scholastic  argument  for  God's  existence  has  exactly  the 
same  value  as  the  principle  of  contradiction  and  of 
efficient  causation. 

Such  are  the  principal  proofs  which  Thomas  Aquinas 
brings  forward  for  the  existence  of  God.  There  are 
others  besides,  all  of  which  consist  in  an  interpretation 
of  facts.  He  sternly  rejects  the  arguments  known  as 
' ontological '  which  would  better  be  described  as  'logi- 
cal,' such  as  those  of  St.  Anselm  and  St.  Augustine.  From 
the  content  of  our  idea  of  God  we  cannot  and  may  not 

^  Ibid.    Tertia  via. 


GOD  93 

infer  the  actual  existence  of  God.  The  fact  that  exist- 
ence is  impHed  in  the  idea  of  an  all-perfect  Being  is  no 
guarantee  of  the  real  existence  of  such  a  Being.  To 
pass  thus  from  the  conceptual  order  to  the  real  order  is 
tantamount  to  trying  to  suspend  a  picture  from  a  painted 
nail. 

11.  God  is  Infinite  Being  or  pure  existence.  Since  ma- 
terial reality  is  alone  proportioned  to  the  knowing 
powers  of  man,  since  the  mind  only  functions  with  the 
aid  of  the  body  (III,  2),  God  can  only  be  known  by  us 
in  an  indirect  way.  "The  highest  knowledge  which  we 
can  have  of  God  in  this  life,  is  to  know  that  He  is  above 
all  that  we  can  think  concerning  Him."  ^ 

In  other  words,  we  know  God  only  by  analogy,  in 
attributing  to  Him  all  perfections  —  by  negation,  in 
excluding  from  these  perfections  all  elements  of  im- 
perfection —  b3'  transcendence,  in  removing  every  limi- 
tation w^hich  in  other  beings  modifies  a  perfection. 
Our  knowledge  of  God  consists  in  knowing  that  He  is 
infinite.  Aristotle  stopped  at  the  notion  of  an  unmoved 
mover.  The  Schoolmen  added  to  it  the  notion  of  In- 
finity. Let  us  endeavor  to  show  how  this  entirely 
negative  concept  does  nevertheless  attain  to  the  Being 
who  is  the  fullness  of  reality. 

The  Infinite  Being,  says  Thomas  Aquinas,  having  in 
Himself  no  potentiality,  no  limitation,  is  pure  existence.^ 
In  order  to  realize  exactly  what  this  implies,  let  us 
avail  ourselves  of  a  simile,  although  in  this  subtle 
matter  any  comparison  is  necessarily  inadequate. 

'  De  Veritate,  q.  2,  art.  2. 

^  Wo  must  not  confiiso  real  Infinite,  or  CJod,  which  means  pure  perfec- 
tion, with  mathematical  infinity,  wliich  deals  with  number  and  (juanlity. 


94  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

"Imagine  a  series  of  vessels,  with  different  capacities, 
which  are  to  be  filled  with  water;  let  there  be  tiny 
vessels,  and  vessels  that  will  contain  gallons,  and  great 
receptacles  which  are  to  serve  as  reservoirs.  Clearly, 
the  volume  of  water  which  may  be  stored  in  each  ves- 
sel must  be  limited  by  the  capacity  of  the  vessel  itself. 
Once  a  vessel  is  filled,  not  a  drop  can  be  added  to  its 
contents ;  were  the  very  ocean  itself  to  flow  over  it,  the 
contents  of  the  vessel  would  not  increase. 

"Now  existence  in  a  finite  being  may  be  likened  to  the 
water,  in  our  simile;  for  existence  too  is  limited  by  the 
capacity  of  every  recipient  being.  This  capacity  is 
the  sum  total  of  the  potentialities  which  from  moment 
to  moment  become  actual  realities  by  being  invested 
with  existence.  That  oak  of  the  forest  which  is  invested 
with  the  most  beautiful  qualities  of  its  species,  and  with 
the  most  perfect  vital  forces;  that  man  of  genius  who 
is  endowed  with  the  most  precious  gifts  of  mind  and 
body,  —  these  possess  the  maximum  of  existence  that 
can  possibly  be  found  in  the  species  of  oak  and  of  man. 
But,  be  it  remembered,  the  capacity  for  existence 
in  each  of  these  is  limited  and  circumscribed  by  the 
very  fact  of  the  apportioned  potentiality,  or  'essence.' 
In  this  beautiful  conception  of  Thomas,  a  vigorous  oak 
has  a  larger  measure  of  existence  than  a  stunted  one; 
a  man  of  genius  possesses  existence  in  a  larger  sense 
than  a  man  of  inferior  mind,  —  because  the  great  man 
and  the  vigorous  oak  possess  a  larger  measure  of  powers 
and  activities,  and  because  these  powers  and  activities 
exist.  But,  once  more,  there  is  a  limit  even  to  their 
existence. 

"On  the  other  hand,  to  return  to  our  simile,  let  us 
picture  to  ourselves  an  existence  indefinitely  uncir- 


GOD  95 

cumscribed,  say  the  ocean,  without  shore  to  confine  or 
to  limit  it."  ^  Such  existence,  with  no  quahfying  or 
modifying  adjective,  is  God.  God  is  existence;  he  is 
nothing  but  the  plenitude  of  existence,  "He  is  the  one 
who  is,"  whose  very  essence  is  existence.^  All  other 
beings  receive  only  some  degree  of  existence,  —  the 
degree  increasing  in  measure  with  increasing  capacity. 
But  they  receive,  in  every  case,  their  existence  from 
God.  Finite  beings  act  upon  each  other,  since,  as  we 
have  seen  above,  the  corporeal  world  is  a  network  of 
efficient  agents;  they  determine  the  capacity  of  the 
vessel,  and  the  size  varies  unceasingly,  but  it  is  God 
alone  who  gives  the  existence  according  to  the  capacity 
in  question. 

III.  The  Divine  Attributes.  The  study  of  the  Divine 
attributes  amounts  to  the  inquiry  by  a  close  effort  of 
reasoning  as  to  what  is  implied  by  "Being  which  is 
existence  without  limit."  Thomas  enumerates  these 
attributes,  and  establishes  in  turn  God's  simplicity, 
goodness,  immutability,  unity,  justice,  etc.  He  is 
never  tired  of  stressing  God's  transcendent  individ- 
uality, His  knowledge  and  His  government  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

His  transcendent  individuality  prevents  Him  from 
being  confused  with  any  of  the  limited  beings  to  whom, 
by  a  free  decree  of  His  will.  He  has  given  or  will  give 
existence.  Any  confusion  of  God  with  finite  beings 
would  be  incompatible  with  His  Infinity,  and  there- 
fore destroy  God.  A  confusion  of  the  essence  or  existence 
of  the  finite  beings  with  the  essence  or  existence  of  God 

'  Civilization  and  Philosophy  in  the  Middle  Ages,  pp.  216-217. 
^  Ego  sum  qui  sum.    Exodi,  III. 


96  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

would  lead  us  to  a  contradiction.  For,  a  collection  of 
finite  essences,  even  if  numerically  indefinite,  would 
nevertheless  form  a  finite  being.  Nor  could  God's  ex- 
istence be  the  existence  of  all  other  existing  beings,  as 
Master  Eckhart,  a  famous  contemporary  of  Thomas, 
taught;  for  infinite  existence  is  of  another  order  than 
that  of  finite  existence.  Per  ipsam  puritatem  est  esse 
distinctum  ah  omni  esse.  —  "On  account  of  its  purity, 
God's  existence  is  distinct  from  all  others."  ^  Thus  the 
Schoolmen  not  only  reject  the  compenetration  of  finite 
beings  in  a  single  whole  (VIII,  1  and  X,  1)  but  also 
their  compenetration  with  God.  They  deny  monism 
in  all  forms.  Creation  ex  nihilo  by  an  act  of  free  will 
is  the  only  theory  which  can  satisfy  the  exigencies  of 
the  metaphysics  of  reality  as  it  actually  is.  In  addition 
to  the  finite  there  must  exist  the  Infinite,  which  can 
only  be  infinite  on  condition  that  it  remains  forever 
other  than  the  finite,  while  at  the  same  time  the  finite 
remains  forever  in  dependence  upon  the  infinite. 

Since  the  principle  of  causality  does  not  involve  the 
notion  of  time,  a  creation  for  all  eternity  is  not  con- 
tradictory. On  this  subject,  which  was  warmly  de- 
bated in  the  thirteenth  century,  Thomas  wrote:  "It 
cannot  be  proved  that  man,  or  heaven  or  stones  did  not 
always  exist."  ^ 

God's  knowledge  is  perfect  and  identical  with  His 
essence.  It  must  extend  not  merely  to  His  own  being, 
but  to  all  other  possible  essences.  God's  knowledge  and 
government  of  the  universe  is  dealt  with  in  the  theory 
which  has  been  called  the  'system  of  laws.'  ^     Thomas 

^  De  ente  et  essentia,  cap.  vi. 

2  Summa  Theol.,  1%  q.  46,  art.  2.  Mundum  non  semper  fuisse  sola  fide 
tenetur,  et  demonstrative  probari  non  potest. 

3  Ibid.,  I«  II",  q.  90-97. 


GOD  97 

Aquinas  there  sets  forth  by  way  of  synthesis  the  rela- 
tions of  subordination  and  dependence  of  contingent 
beings  upon  God.  The  eternal  law  {lex  aeterna)  is  the 
plan  of  Providence  such  as  it  exists  in  the  infinite 
knowledge  of  God.  This  plan  is  reflected  in  each  and 
every  being  of  the  universe  in  a  way  conformable  to 
its  particular  nature,  and  thus  constitutes  the  'natural 
law.'  The  effect  of  this  lex  naturalis  is  to  lead  each 
being  to  exercise  its  activities  in  such  a  way  as  to  lead 
to  its  end,  and  so  to  contribute  to  the  whole  plan  of 
Providence.  It  is  blind  and  fatalistic  in  inferior  beings, 
but  in  the  case  of  man  it  is  known  by  the  reason,  and 
it  is  in  the  power  of  human  liberty  to  live  in  accordance 
with  it  or  the  contrary.  Lex  naturalis  nihil  aliud  est 
qiiam  participatio  legis  aeternae  iii  rationali  creatura}  — 
"The  natural  law  (of  mankind)  is  simply  a  reflection  of 
the  eternal  law  in  a  rational  creature."  We  shall  see 
shortly  what  a  close  relation  there  is  between  the 
natural  human  law  and  morality,  and  why  it  is  that  all 
positive  laws  ought  to  be  based  upon  the  natural  law 
(XIII,  2,  XV,  7). 

IV.  Conclusion.  To  Thomas  Aquinas,  the  existence  of 
God  is  not  a  truth  which  is  immediately  evident,  but 
one  requiring  demonstration.  We  do  not  know  Him  in 
the  manner  in  which  we  know,  for  example,  the  principle 
of  contradiction  or  our  own  existence,  but  we  have  to 
view  Him  through  the  thick  veil  of  the  world  of  sense 
reality,  which  is  })etween  Him  and  us.  Likewise,  a 
reasoning  ])rocess  alone  enables  us  to  know  some  as- 
pects, or  attributes,  of  God's  Infinity. 

'  Ibid..  I»  II'"-'.  q.  ai.arl.  1. 


98  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Is  such  a  knowledge  of  God  anthropomorphic?  Yes 
and  no.  Y^es,  in  the  sense  that  if  we  wish  to  say  any- 
thing at  all  concerning  God  we  must  do  so  in  a  human 
way.  No,  inasmuch  as  we  are  fully  aware  of  the  inad- 
equate and  limited  application  of  the  '  names '  which  we 
give  to  the  Godhead. 


CHAPTER  XII 

PERSONAL  CONDUCT  AND  MORAL  VALUES 

I.  The  Science  of  Morality. 

II.  The  problem  of  ends  or  aims. 

III.  Voluntary  acts  and  Free  acts. 

IV.  Moral  goodness  of  a  human  act. 

V.   Objective  distinction  between  moral  good  and  evil. 
VI.   Moral  richness  of  an  act. 

I.  The  Science  of  Morality.  The  activity  of  man  is 
characterized  by  teleology,  i.e.,  he  desires  certain  things 
as  ends,  and  he  wills  other  things  as  means  to  these  ends. 
In  this,  he  resembles  all  other  natural  beings,  which  are, 
as  we  have  seen,  endowed  with  this  teleological  char- 
acter. But  whereas  these  others  tend  towards  their 
ends  in  virtue  of  certain  internal  inclinations  themselves 
unconscious  and  not  subject  to  control,  man,  being 
endowed  with  reason  and  liberty,  is  master  of  his  own 
conduct,  —  "master  of  the  acts  which  lead  towards 
his  end."  ^  The  study  of  human  conduct  as  directed 
by  us  towards  an  end  forms  the  subject  matter  of 
Ethics  or  Moral  Philosophy.  The  knowledge  which 
we  thereby  obtain  is  concerned  with  an  order  of  things 
of  which  we  ourselves  are  the  authors,  and  not  merely 
the  spectators  (XVIII,  2).  For  our  conduct  is  our 
own  work,  and  the  resulting  relations  between  us  and 
the  universe  in  general  are  what  we  ourselves  make 
them. 

'  Dominus  actuum  ducens  ad   finem,  Summa  ThcoL,  I"  11"",  (|.   1,  art. 
1,2. 

99 


100  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Starting  from  facts  duly  observed,  Moral  Philosophy 
discusses  three  general  questions:  the  end  in  view, 
the  act  whereby  we  seek  to  attain  it,  and  morality, 
or  the  relation  of  agreement  or  suitability  between  the 
one  and  the  other. 

II.  The  problem  of  ends  or  aims.  It  is  a  matter  of  com- 
mon experience  that  our  conduct  is  motivated  by  dif- 
ferent aims:  riches,  honor,  material  pleasure,  social 
positions,  etc.  All  these  are  desired  as  being  good 
things,  for  the  only  possible  motive  of  action  is  our 
well-being,  and  the  suitability  of  things  or  actions  in 
view  thereof.  The  good  is  that  which  all  desire.  Even 
a  man  who  commits  suicide,  in  order  to  put  an  end  to 
some  trouble  or  other,  obeys  the  same  law.  Man's 
nature  is  to  will  the  good,  and  all  that  is  good.  And 
when  our  knowledge  puts  us  in  presence  of  an  external 
reality  or  an  action  "simply  as  desirable  or  suitable 
for  us,"  we  necessarily  will  it,  unless  indeed  we  first 
reflect,  and  as  a  result  realize  that  "all  is  not  gold  that 
glitters." 

The  good  which  constitutes  the  end  we  aim  at  is 
always  our  own  good.  Nothing  is  more  personal  than 
conduct,  and  the  ends  we  aim  at  in  our  lives.  If  the 
end  be  pleasure,  fortune,  or  knowledge,  it  is  still  our 
own  pleasure,  our  fortune,  our  knowledge.  The  end 
is  a  personal  one,  because  man  is  an  individual  sub- 
stance. Of  course,  the  well-being  of  others  enters  as  a 
motive  of  conduct,  but  it  can  only  be  a  secondary  one. 
It  will  be  seen  below  that  every  human  act  is  a  social 
act,  which  benefits  or  harms  a  community.  The  reali- 
zation of  individual  happiness  is  the  sole  reason  for 
living  in  society.    Hence  it  is  still  for  our  personal 


PERSONAL  CONDUCT  101 

perfection  that  we  care  for  the  well-being  of  others.  For 
instance,  those  who  aid  their  neighbor  see  in  their  good 
work  the  accomplishment  of  an  act  which  their  reason 
approves,  and  which  perfects  them  in  their  own  eyes. 

The  Schoolmen  are  so  convinced  of  the  personal  char- 
acter of  happiness  that  they  raise  the  question  whether 
an  act  of  disinterested  love  is  possible,  even  when  God 
is  the  object.  So  that  one  could  say  in  general :  we  love 
ourselves  in  the  first  place  and  others  only  secondarily. 

Experience  also  teaches  us  that  some  ends  are  sub- 
ordinated to  others,  and  that  all  have  not  the  same 
value.  They  are  arranged  in  a  hierarchical  order:  I 
go  on  a  particular  voyage,  in  order  to  do  some  business 
of  a  particular  kind ;  this  I  want  to  do  in  order  to  make 
money;  this  again  I  want  that  I  may  be  my  own  master, 
and  so  on.  An  end  which  is  subordinated  to  another,  or 
is  useful,  becomes  a  means.  Now  there  must  evidently 
be  a  supreme  end  or  aim  which  dominates  and  under- 
lies all  the  others.  If  not,  I  should  never  desire  any- 
thing at  all,  and  should  never  go  beyond  a  mere  platonic 
consideration  of  the  possibilities  of  action.  But  we  do 
make  actual  decisions,  and  in  order  to  explain  their 
actuality,  there  must  be  some  real  end  towards  which 
they  are  directed.  Otherwise  we  should  be  led  into 
an  infinite  regression,  which  is  as  absurd  ^  in  this  con- 
nection as  in  the  order  of  efficient  causality  (XI,  1).  For, 
an  infinite  regress  would  render  any  actual  decision  im- 
possible; and  yet,  particular  decisions  or  acts  of  will  are 
facts.  What  is  this  supreme  end?  We  may  say  in  the  first 
place  that  it  is  my  whole  good  or  my  good  in  general. 
But  such  a  statement  would  l^e  incomplete,  for  one  would 
go  on  to  ask  where  this  whole  good  or  good  in  general  is 

1  Ibid.,  1"  11'".  <i.  1,  art.  4. 


102  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

to  be  found.  Here  we  are  confronted  with  the  theory 
of  vahies.  Concrete  good  things  of  many  kinds  he 
within  our  grasp :  pleasures  of  the  body  and  of  the  mind, 
good  health,  fortune,  friendship,  and  so  on.  All  these 
correspond  in  a  certain  measure  to  our  aspirations,  but 
it  becomes  necessary  to  draw  up  a  scale  of  their  re- 
spective values,  and  this  can  only  be  done  by  the  reason. 
Now  our  reason  tells  us  that  the  truly  human  good 
ought  to  consist  in  that  which  will  satisfy  our  specifi- 
cally human  aspirations,  or,  in  other  words,  correspond 
to  those  faculties  which  are  the  highest  we  possess, 
and  which  make  us  human,  namely  intelligence  and 
will.  Things  other  than  the  intellectual  will  be  good 
only  as  supplementary,  so  to  speak,  and  as  controlled 
by  reason.  1 

The  happiness  which  corresponds  to  our  mode  of 
being  will  consist  in  knowing  and  loving.  To  know  in  a 
perfect  way,  to  penetrate  all  the  mysteries  of  the  ma- 
terial universe  and  to  dominate  it,  and  to  know  in  ad- 
dition by  means  of  His  works  the  great  Creator  of  them 
all,  God  Himself;  then  to  love  in  the  same  perfect  way, 
to  delight  in  knowledge  for  its  own  sake,  and  to  cast 
ourselves  towards  God  our  Creator,  —  this  will  con- 
stitute philosophic  happiness. 

Doubtless,  the  man  who  desires  good  as  such,  perfect 
good,  does  not  at  once  perceive  that  it  is  God  alone 
who  can  fully  satisfy  the  aspirations  of  his  mind  and 
heart.  His  reason  arrives  at  this  conclusion  by  the 
gradual  elimination  of  objects  other   than  God   (XI, 

1  The  supreme  good  of  man  is  therefore  something  which  is  suitable, 
bonum  honestum,  i.e.,  something  which  harmonizes  with  a  rational  nature. 
It  cannot  be  something  merely  useful,  bonum  utile,  since  this  is  by  definition 
subordinated  to  something  else.  Nor  can  it  be  that  which  is  merely  pleasant, 
for  pleasure  is  after  all  a  corollary  following  upon  activity  (VII,  4). 


PERSONAL  CONDUCT  103 

1,  4).  Until  this  process  of  reasoning  is  performed, 
man  seeks  for  happiness,  miaware  that  God  is  his 
happiness.  "To  perceive  that  someone  approaches 
is  not  to  know  Peter,  although  Peter  is  the  man  who 
approaches.  Likewise,  to  know  that  a  supreme  good 
exists  is  not  to  recognize  God  in  it,  although  God  is 
that  supreme  good."  ^ 

Doubtless,  in  this  purely  natural  state  of  existence, 
we  should  have  surmised  that  a  knowledge  and  a  love 
of  another  and  higher  kind,  and  out  of  the  reach  of  our 
powers,  was  in  itself  possible,  —  we  refer  to  a  direct 
intuition  of  the  Divinity,  and  a  corresponding  love. 
But  in  any  case,  we  should  have  realized  that  it  was 
beyond  us,  and  we  should  have  known  also  the  reason 
why. 

At  this  point  Catholic  theology  intervenes,  and  states 
that  this  higher  destiny  and  state,  which  surpasses  the 
powers  of  our  rational  nature,  is  given  us  by  grace.^ 
God  offers  us  supernatural  happiness  as  a  free  gift. 
The  "blessedness  of  abstraction"  fades  in  "blessedness 
of  vision,"  just  as  a  shadow  is  absorbed  in  a  ray  of 
light. 

The  end  of  man,  then,  according  to  scholastic  phi- 
losophy, is  an  intellectual  one.  To  behold  God,  whether 
in  His  works,  or  face  to  face,  is  more  essential  for  happi- 
ness than  love  itself,  according  to  Thomas  Aquinas, 
for  love  is  after  all  a  necessary  consequence  of  such  a 
vision.  Surely  no  philosophy  could  give  to  knowledge 
a  higher  or  more  magnificent  role  than  this. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  thought  that  the  Schoolmen 
exclude  other  good  things,  such  as  physical  well-being, 
from  human  happiness.     Rather  these  things  are  con- 

'  Ibid..  I\  q.  2.  art.  1.  ^  Ibid.,  I"  II"",  (j.  3,  art.  8. 


104  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

sidered  to  contribute  to  happiness  as  a  whole,  and  since 
man  has  a  body,  his  body  ought  to  share  in  happiness 
just  as  his  soul,  always  on  condition  that  these  com- 
plementary good  things  remain  in  due  subordination  to 
the  human  good  par  excellence. 

In  concluding  this  section,  let  us  note  that  the  su- 
preme end  of  man,  consisting  in  the  full  development 
of  his  powers  of  knowing  and  willing,  is  not  beyond  his 
grasp.  Happiness  is  not  a  mirage.  Scholastic  Moral 
Philosophy  is  optimistic. 

III.  Voluntary  acts  and  Free  acts.  Human  conduct 
consists  of  voluntary  acts,  for  it  is  the  will  that  tends 
towards  the  good  in  general  as  presented  to  us  by  our 
reason,  or  towards  any  particular  thing  which  exhibits 
the  quality  of  goodness.  'Particular  thing'  must  here 
be  taken  in  a  large  sense,  so  as  to  include  not  merely 
external  objects  which  we  may  wish  for  (as  a  landowner 
may  wish  to  add  a  field  to  his  property) ,  but  also  any 
activity  (eating,  drinking,  games,  study)  performed 
in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the  will.  We  have  alreadv 
seen  that  when  confronted  with  a  good  thing  which  our 
minds  regard  as  simply  good  and  without  defect,  we 
necessarily  will  it  (VII,  3) .  We  cannot  possibly  destroj^ 
this  tendency  of  our  nature.  Our  will  has  an  insatiable 
thirst  for  the  good.  Liberty  enters  only  in  the  choice 
of  things  which  are  partially  good,  or  which  reflection 
shows  to  be  limited  in  goodness. 

It  is  therefore  the  voluntary  act,  and  more  especially 
the  free  act,  which  is  endowed  with  morality.  A  morally 
good  or  bad  act  is  above  all  a  free  act.   Why  is  this? 

IV.  Moral  goodness  of  a  human  act.  A  thing  or  act  is 
good  when  it  is  suitable  for  us  in  some  way.    To  live 


PERSONAL  CONDUCT  105 

a  life  of  pleasure,  or  to  think  only  of  getting  rich,  ap- 
pears as  good  only  to  a  sensual  and  grasping  man.  A 
thing  or  act  is  morally  good  only  if  it  is  in  agreement  loith 
the  true  end  of  man,  and  contributes  directly  or  in- 
directly to  our  real  perfection  (XII,  2) .  From  the  moral 
point  of  view,  pleasure  and  wealth  are  neither  good 
nor  evil.  They  only  become  so  when  the  will,  guided  by 
the  reason,  either  does  or  does  not  employ  them  in  the 
service  of  the  truly  human  good,  by  allocating  them 
their  proper  place  in  the  scale  of  values.  Goodness  and 
moral  goodness  are  accordingly  not  synonymous:  the 
latter  is  only  one  species  of  the  former.  Morality  will 
differ  with  the  end  assigned,  since  it  consists  in  the 
relation  between  act  and  end.  The  conception  of  moral- 
ity will  accordingly  be  different  in  the  hedonistic  sys- 
tems which  regard  pleasure  as  the  only  end,  and  in 
the  intellectualist  system  of  morality  of  the  School- 
men. 

Morality  belongs  to  the  sum  total  of  human  volitions, 
but  more  especially  to  our  free  acts.  Although  the 
profound  and  necessary  tendency  of  man  towards  the 
good  in  general  is  indeed  endowed  with  morality,  since 
it  is  that  which  sets  the  human  will  in  motion,  moral 
character  belongs  principally  to  the  act  which  is  freely 
willed;  for  once  the  fundamental  tendency  referred  to 
translates  itself  into  an  actual  volition,  it  will  then  be 
concerned  with  a  concrete,  limited  good,  which  forms  the 
subject  matter  of  free  choice.  Thus  man  has  the  awful 
power  of  choosing  his  path.  He  can  turn  away  from  that 
which  constitutes  his  true  well-being,  and  attach  him- 
self instead  to  things  which  are  doubtless  endowed  with 
real  goodness  of  a  sort,  but  are  nevertheless  destructive 
of  his  own  true  interests. 


106  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Liberty  takes  on  a  moral  aspect  when  it  is  considered 
in  conjunction  with  the  end  of  human  conduct.  In 
consequence,  anything  which  increases  or  diminishes 
liberty  —  dullness  of  mental  vision,  the  duly  ordered  or 
disordered  state  of  passions,  bodily  health  or  disease, 
education  and  habits  —  all  will  affect  the  morality  of 
actions. 

V.  Objective  distinction  between  moral  good  and  evil.  The 
end  of  man  follows  from  his  nature.  The  supreme  hu- 
man good  is  what  it  is  because  man  has  consciousness, 
is  rational,  and  is  endowed  with  free  will.  In  the  ultimate 
analysis,  human  nature,  like  all  other  essences,  is 
founded  upon  an  immutable  relationship  of  similitude 
with  God  (V,  1).  Since  this  is  the  case,  the  relation 
which  exists  between  a  human  act  and  man's  end  must 
also  follow  from  the  nature  of  things.  Whether  we  like 
it  or  not,  it  is  what  it  is.  Morality  does  not  depend 
upon  the  caprice  of  men,  and  not  even  God  Himself 
could  change  it.  Whether  we  wish  it  or  not,  a  prayer 
must  draw  us  towards  God,  and  blasphemy  must 
separate  us  from  Him.  And,  if  life  in  society  is  an  in- 
dispensable condition  for  the  attainment  of  our  individ- 
ual ends  (XV,  1),  to  help  our  fellows  must  be  morally 
good,  and  to  seek  to  destroy  authority  must  be  morally 
bad. 

As  for  these  acts  which  in  themselves  have  no  relation 
to  man's  end,  and  which  are  accordingly  known  as 
'indifferent,'  they  will  have  a  subordinate  importance, 
and  the  end  for  which  we  freely  perform  them  will  give 
them  a  borrowed  moral  character  as  it  were,  which  will 
make  them  really  good  or  evil.  The  most  banal  of  all 
our  acts  —  such  as  going  for  a  walk,  or  working  in  a 


PERSONAL  CONDUCT  107 

laboratory  —  will  ]:)ossess  its  character  of  goodness  or 
evil,  because  of  the  repercussion  which  it  must  ulti- 
mately have  upon  our  lives  or  upon  the  lives  of  other 
members  of  human  society. 

VI.  Moral  richness  of  an  act.  From  this  it  follows  that 
the  more  an  act  conduces  to  the  perfection  of  our 
nature,  the  richer  will  be  its  morality.  Besides  the  in- 
trinsic character  of  an  act  which  makes  it  good  or  evil, 
and  of  which  we  have  just  spoken  {finis  opeiis),  Thomas 
Aquinas  calls  attention  to  the  intention  (finis  operantis), 
and  the  circumstances  of  this  act,  as  being  two  other 
elements,  which  increase  or  diminish  its  moral  goodness 
or  evil.  Thus,  to  open  a  subscription  for  the  relief  of 
the  poor  is  a  good  act  by  its  very  nature,  and  no  human 
intention  could  alter  this  intrinsic  goodness  (finis  operis). 
But  the  vanity  of  him  who  organized  the  charity  les- 
sens the  moral  value  of  the  undertaking.  In  the  same 
way,  this  value  increases,  if  he  must  undergo  sacrifices 
or  difficulties  to  attain  his  purpose.  It  may  be  noticed 
that  these  same  elements  (intrinsic  character,  inten- 
tion, circumstances)  affect  not  only  the  morality,  but 
also  the  degree  of  reality  of  the  act  itself.  Consequently 
they  enrich  or  impoverish  the  personality  from  which 
all  our  activities  originate. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

OBLIGATION  AND  MORAL  LAW 

I.   Nature  and  extension  of  moral  obligation. 
IL   The  Natural  Law  of  Mankind. 
III.   Fixity  and  variability  of  laws. 

I.  Nature  and  extension  of  moral  obligation.  The  study 
of  moral  obligation  is  one  of  the  chief  features  in  which 
the  Schoolmen  advance  beyond  the  Greek  philosophers, 
who  confined  themselves  to  the  study  of  the  good. 
Among  acts  which  are  morally  good  some  are  obligatory; 
others  are  not.  For  instance,  all  men  are  not  called 
upon  to  be  heroes  or  martyrs,  but  it  is  required  of  all 
to  respect  the  rights  of  others  to  life  and  property. 

Psychologically,  moral  obligation  manifests  itself  to 
us  in  the  form  of  command,  or  compulsion,  which 
pushes  the  will  in  a  certain  direction,  and  yet  does  not 
destroy  liberty  in  those  cases  where  there  is  room  for 
freedom.  For  example,  we  are  all  aware  that  we  should 
respect  our  parents,  but  we  are  all  nevertheless  free 
not  to  do  so. 

To  what  voluntary  acts  does  this  moral  obligation 
belong.?  In  the  first  place  we  are  bound  to  will  our  end, 
i.e.,  our  well-being,  and  to  seek  it  where  it  is  to  be  found 
—  in  that  which  answers  to  the  deep-rooted  tendencies  of 
our  rational  nature  —  and  not  to  look  for  it  exclusively 
in  those  secondary  goods  which  cease  to  be  good  when 
not  controlled  by  reason.  In  the  second  place  we  are 
morally  bound  to  will  whatever  is  indispensable  in 
order  to  reach  this  end,  and  to  avoid  that  which  must 


108 


OBLIGATION  AND  MORAL  LAW  109 

of  necessity  turn  us  away  from  it.  Thus  natural  religion 
becomes  a  duty,  since  God  is  the  end  in  which  man  finds 
his  happiness,  and  since  we  are  obliged  to  know  God 
and  to  love  Him,  with  the  entire  strength  of  our 
nature.  With  the  Schoolmen,  natural  religion  is  a 
religion  of  love  and  inspires  all  human  conduct.  There- 
fore, God  is  not  merely  a  frigid  metaphysical  skeleton, 
the  changeless  being  which  explains  all  change,  but 
He  enters  into  the  whole  moral  life  of  man.  Obligation 
in  the  case  of  the  iiecessary  means  is  a  corollary  from 
the  obligation  to  seek  the  end.  But  obligation  stops 
there.  In  order  to  get  from  Boston  to  New  York,  I 
must  somehow  cover  the  distance  which  separates  the 
two  cities,  but  I  can  get  to  New  York  by  train  or  by 
steamer.  So  also  I  can  freely  choose  between  different 
means,  when  each  of  them  leads  to  the  end  and  no  one 
is  the  exclusive  way  to  reach  it.  This  is  the  reason  why 
all  states  of  life  are  good,  why  neither  marriage  nor 
celibacy  are  obligatory,  and  why  a  man  may  choose 
any  career  which  he  thinks  will  enable  him  to  reach  his 
destiny.  Hence  moral  obligation  consists  in  the  neces- 
sity of  willing  our  supreme  good,  combined  with  the 
liberty  of  choosing  the  concrete  objects  wherein  it  is 
in  fact  realized. 

What  is  the  basis  of  moral  obligation?  The  psy- 
chological fact  of  compulsion  reveals  moral  obligation, 
but  cannot  be  a  sufficient  reason  for  it,  since  we  may 
ask  further:  upon  what  does  this  feeling  rest?  For  the 
Schoolmen,  moral  obligation  is  founded  upon  luunan 
nature  itself  and  its  need  of  well-being.  Such  is  at  any 
rate  the  proximate  basis  of  obligation.  But  the  ultimate 
foundation  is  a  Divine  decree.  God  alone  can  dictate  a 
law  which  binds  morally;    He  alone  can  add  the  neces- 


110  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

sary  sanction  to  it.  Obligation  and  moral  law  stand  to 
man  in  the  same  relation  as  the  natural  law  to  all  beings : 
they  concern  the  application  of  the  eternal  law  to  a  na- 
ture which  is  rational  and  free. 

II.  The  Natural  Law  of  Mankind.  Thomas  Aquinas 
distinguishes  between  two  kinds  of  commands  dictated 
by  the  natural  law  to  man.  (1)  First  we  have  the  fun- 
damental command  to  act  according  to  reason,  "to  do 
good  and  to  avoid  evil,"  and  to  follow  some  general 
precepts  which  flow  from  this  fundamental  obligation. 
For  instance  men  are  obliged  "to  preserve  their  own 
life  and  to  ward  off  its  obstacles  ...  to  know  the 
truth  about  God  and  to  live  in  Society."  ^  These  com- 
mands are  the  same  for  all  men  and  for  all  time.  They 
may  become  clouded  over  in  certain  cases,  but  they  can 
never  be  altogether  effaced,  for  they  are  a  corollary  of 
our  inborn  tendency  towards  our  real  well-being.  It 
follows  from  this  that  human  nature  is  radically  sound, 
and  that  the  worst  of  criminals  is  capable  of  moral 
reformation. 

(2)  In  the  second  place  we  have  principles  which  we 
may  describe  as  circumstantial,  since  human  conduct 
is  necessarily  bound  up  with  conditions  of  space  and 
time,  and  physical  and  social  surroundings.  Human 
reason  must  take  the  circumstances  into  consideration 
in  enunciating  a  moral  law.  The  more  closely  a  law  is 
applied  to  particular  circumstances  and  cases,  the  more 
numerous  will  be  the  exceptions  to  the  law,  and  these 
exceptions  will  be  justifiable  at  the  bar  of  reason. 
Accordingly,  Thomas  says  that  a  moral  law  governs 
only  the  majority  of  cases,  ''ut  in  pluribus."    "Conse- 

1  Summa  TheoL,  P  IP«,  q.  94,  art.  2. 


OBLIGATION  AND  MORAL  LAW  111 

quently,  in  contingent  matters  such  as  natural  and  hu- 
man things,  it  is  enough  for  a  thing  to  be  true  in  the 
greater  number  of  cases,  though  at  times,  and  less  fre- 
quently, it  may  fail."  ^  "From  the  principle  that  we 
must  act  according  to  reason,  we  can  infer  that  we  ought 
to  return  things  entrusted  to  us,  and  this  is  true  in  the 
majority  of  cases.  In  certain  instances,  however,  resti- 
tution would  be  dangerous  and  therefore  unreasonable, 
as  in  the  case  where  the  one  to  whom  the  article  was 
returned  would  make  use  of  it  to  put  an  end  to  his  life, 
or  do  harm  to  his  country."  - 

III.  Fixity  and  variahUity  of  laws.  These  conditions 
explain  why  in  circumstantial  laws  —  which  after  all 
are  the  only  ones  which  regulate  our  daily  life  —  we 
find  both  change  and  fixity.  The  historical  and  social 
circumstances  may  vary,  and  thus  some  elasticity  in 
the  moral  laws  becomes  possible.  But  the  fundamental 
precept,  and  the  immediate  corollaries  from  it,  which 
are  known  by  all  and  bind  all,  are  fixed  and  invariable. 
They  are  as  permanent  as  human  nature  and  human 
reason  themselves.  They  form  a  deposit  in  the  depths 
of  every  human  soul  and  an  interior  voice  ^  informs  us 
of  them.  They  correspond  to  the  unwritten  dictates 
spoken  of  by  Sophocles  in  Antigone,  Cicero,  the  Stoics, 
and  the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  which  the  School- 
men incorporated  into  their  comprehensive  system  of 
metaphysics. 

'  Ibid.,  q.  96,  art.  1.  *  IbuL,  q.  94,  art.  4. 

'  The  mind  possesses  a  natural  facility  and  permanent  disposition  to 
know  the  first  moral  precepts.  It  is  called  nyntncais,  which  Tlioiiias  defines: 
lex  intcllcclu.f  noxlri  inquanlum  est  habitus  coiitinens  pracccpta  Icyis  naturalis 
quae  sunt  prima  operum  humanorum,  q.  94,  art.  1. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

CONSCIENCE  AND  MORAL  VIRTUE 

I.   Conscience. 
II.   Responsibility  and  sanctions. 
III.   Moral  Virtues.     Prudence  and  Justice. 

I.  Conscience.  The  obligation  to  act  in  a  particular 
way  in  a  particular  instance  affects  the  will  through  the 
intermediary  of  an  act  of  knowledge.  This  is  evident 
from  the  data  of  psychology  and  ethics.  I  ought  to 
know  the  moral  law  not  only  as  expressed  in  more  or 
less  general  principles  by  means  of  general  judgments 
of  the  practical  reason,  but  also  as  applying  or  not  ap- 
plying to  the  particular  case  before  me.  The  act  by 
which  the  reason  applies  a  universal  principle  of  moral- 
ity to  a  particular  case  is  the  judgment  of  conscience.^ 
The  practical  reason  says:  You  must  be  honest  in 
business  and  give  to  each  his  due.  Conscience  says: 
You  must  return  to  your  customer  the  sum  of  a  hundred 
dollars,  above  the  price  of  the  article  sold  to  him,  which 
he  gave  you  by  error. 

A  law  which  is  not  known  cannot  bind  us,  and  we  are 
never  bound  to  act  otherwise  than  our  conscience  tells 
us,  even  if  its  judgment  happens  to  be  erroneous.  "We 
must  say,  unconditionally,  that  any  act  of  will  which 
goes  astray  from  reason,  whether  that  reason  be  correct 
or  false,  is  evil."^  In  applying  his  principles  in  this  way, 

1  Summa  TheoL,  I^  IP^  q.  19,  art.  5.    Conscientia  nihil  aliud  est  quam 

applicatio  scientiae  ad  aliquem  actum. 

'  Ibid.,  q.  19,  art.  5. 

m 


CONSCIENCE  AND  MORAL  VIRTUE        113 

Aquinas  shows  his  breadth  of  view,  and  —  let  us  re- 
mark incidentally  —  demonstrates  the  tolerance  of 
the  thinkers  of  the  thirteenth  century  in  religious 
matters.  For  if  anyone  thought  in  good  faith  that  he 
would  do  wTong  in  becoming  a  Christian,  he  would  do 
wrong  in  believing  in  Christ,  although  the  Christian 
Faith  is  in  itself  good,  and  necessary  for  salvation.* 
For  the  same  reason,  a  doubtful  or  'probable'  con- 
science does  not  bind  or  at  any  rate  binds  to  a  less 
degree.    Obligation  is  a  function  of  knowledge. 

But  we  must  add  something  further  to  this  thomistic 
doctrine.  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  every  act  of 
willing  evil,  under  the  impression  that  it  is  good,  is 
morally  upright,  for  man  has  a  positive  duty  to  instruct 
himself  concerning  his  moral  obligations,  seek  light  on 
doubtful  points,  and  weigh  probabilities  (XIII,  2). 
Error,  doubt,  hesitation  become  blameworthy  if  they  are 
voluntary.  Still,  it  remains  true  that  anything  which 
diminishes  our  clear  vision  of  what  we  ought  to  do,  such 
as  prejudices,  education,  heredity,  organic  disease  or 
weakness,  fear,  anger,  and  other  passions,  defects  or  evil 
tendencies  in  the  will,  emotions,  etc.  (VII,  5),  reduces 
the  moral  character  of  an  act,  and  likewise  responsi- 
bility. 

II.  Responsibility  and  sanctions.  Moral  acts,  whether 
obligatory  or  not,  are  imputable  to  the  individual,  in 
so  far  as  they  are  freely  performed.  As  Aristotle  i)uts 
it,  a  man  is  the  father  of  his  acts  as  he  is  the  father  of 
his  children. 

Responsibility,  relative  to  oneself  or  to  others,  in- 
volves merit  and  demerit.    These  are  regarded  by  the 

>  Ibid.,  (].  I'J.  art.  5. 


114  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Schoolmen  as  the  natural  consequences  of  the  use  of 
liberty.  If  an  act  freely  willed,  moral  or  immoral,  had 
nothing  to  do  with  merit  or  demerit,  and  if  ultimately 
we  could  not  fall  back  upon  a  system  of  sanctions  (i.e., 
rewards  and  punishments)  which  need  to  be  completed 
in  a  future  life,  —  not  only  would  the  good  cease  to  be 
rewarded  and  evil  punished,  but  liberty  itself  would  no 
longer  have  a  sufficient  reason.  What  would  be  the  use 
of  liberty,  if  its  proper  or  improper  employment  were 
without  effect  upon  our  final  happiness.'' 

III.  Moral  Virtues.  Prudence  and  Justice.  The  per- 
forming of  acts  morally  good  engenders  moral  virtue: 
it  impresses  upon  the  higher  part  of  our  being  a  lasting 
bent  which  inclines  us  to  act  well  in  all  the  circumstances 
of  our  life.  Moral  virtue  is  the  result  of  moral  conduct 
in  the  past,  and  the  source  of  similar  conduct  in  the 
future.  The  moral  virtues  are  prudence,  justice,  forti- 
tude, temperance  (VIII,  3). 

At  the  base  of  the  moral  life  is  prudence,  the  recta 
ratio  agihilium  —  "right  reasoning  concerning  things 
to  be  done  "  —  which  determines  what  act  should  be 
performed  in  particular  circumstances.  Certain  pri- 
mary and  very  simple  judgments  which  are  present  in 
every  mind  (such  as,  for  instance,  "it  is  necessary  to 
live  in  society")  originate  a  tendency  or  inclination  to 
act  in  accordance  with  them  (for  instance,  a  general 
tendency  to  do  all  that  is  necessary  for  life  in  society). 
Then  comes  a  series  of  practical  judgments  which, 
considering  all  the  circumstances  {consilium,  counsel), 
determine  our  choice.  This  in  turn  the  will  decides  to 
follow  {imperium) .  A  prudent  man  is  one  who  by  the 
frequency  of  such  judgments  sees  and  decides  rapidly 


CONSCIENCE  AND  MORAL  VIRTUE        115 

and  without  hesitation  what  is  to  be  done  in  a  particular 
case.  Prudence  therefore  belongs  both  to  knowing  and 
to  acting,  and  exemplifies  the  intimate  compenetration 
of  knowledge  and  will  in  the  unity  of  consciousness. 
Situated  at  the  threshold  of  the  moral  life,  prudence 
impregnates  all  the  other  virtues  which  guide  us  in  our 
actions,  especially  justice,  fortitude  and  temperance. 

To  understand  the  meaning  of  justice  we  must 
begin  by  considering  the  notion  of  right  (jus).  Right 
presupposes  the  living  together  of  many  human  beings 
in  a  community.  Since  I  have  a  personal  end  to  attain, 
my  acts  are  naturally  means  which  serve  for  my  own 
perfection.  If  they  directly  benefit  others,  then  these 
others  owe  me  compensation,  and  right,  jus,  consists 
precisely  in  this  requirement  of  equity.  "Right,  or  that 
which  is  just,  is  some  work  related  to  another  according 
to  some  kind  of  equity."  ^ 

Justice,  the  virtue  par  excellence  of  life  in  society,  is 
the  psychological  and  moral  state  of  a  man  who  wills 
"firmly  and  permanently  to  render  to  each  one  his 
due."  -  It  accordingly  supposes  a  plurality  of  distinct 
persons,  capable  of  bringing  about  this  equity  by  means 
of  their  actions.  "Since  it  belongs  to  justice  to  regulate 
human  actions,  this  equity  which  is  called  for  by  justice 
must  be  between  different  persons,  capable  of  action."  ^ 
This  is  indeed  called  for  by  the  individualism  which 
runs  through  the  Metaphysics  and  Moral  Philosophy 
of  Thomas.  He  never  loses  an  opportunity  of  stressing 
the  value  of  personality. 

'  Jus  sive  justum  est  aliquod  opus  adaequatum  alteri  secundum  aliquem 
modum.    Ibid.,  q.  57,  art.  1. 

*  Perpetua  etconstans  voluntas  jus  suum  unicuiquc  tribuctuli.  Ibid.,  q.  58, 
art.  1. 

3  Ibid.,  art.  2. 


116  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Now,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  'other  than  self,'  for 
whose  benefit  justice  exists,  may  signify  an  individual, 
or  the  community,  and  we  thus  obtain  the  division  of 
justice  into  particular  and  social.  For  instance  to  give 
to  a  shopkeeper  the  price  of  an  article  purchased  is  to 
perform  an  act  of  private  or  particular  justice.  ^ 

In  the  present  chapter  only  particular  justice  is  in 
question.  Since  right  —  that  which  is  due  to  others  — 
rests  upon  an  objective  equality,  it  is  independent  of 
our  passions  and  affections.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
virtue  of  justice.  On  the  other  hand,  fortitude,  which 
regulates  boldness  and  fear,  temperance,  which  bridles 
our  appetites,  and  other  virtues,  are  directly  related  to 
our  passions  and  our  inner  dispositions. 

We  can  say  that  Thomas  Aquinas  retains  for  the 
group  of  moral  virtues  the  Aristotelian  notion  "in  medio 
virtus''  on  condition  that  the  mean  here  is  determined 
by  reason,  and  differs  in  the  case  of  different  virtues. 
For  instance,  not  to  eat  when  one  ought  to,  or  to  eat 
more  than  we  ought,  is  not  to  observe  the  limits  of 
temperance  dictated  by  the  reason.  Where  the  virtues 
are  concerned,  we  must  keep  close  to  reason. 

The  moral  philosophy  of  Thomas  Aquinas  is  in  close 
dependence  upon  his  Metaphysics.  The  moral  value 
of  personality,  the  end  of  man,  the  notion  of  moral 
goodness,  the  moral  richness  of  a  human  act,  are  all 
established  in  a  way  conformable  with  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  pluralism,  of  universal  finality,  and  of  the 
goodness  of  being. 

'  In  this  instance  there  is  an  exchange  which  brings  about  an  equality, 
and  it  is  called  commutative  justice.  Besides,  Aquinas  considers  as  an  act  of 
particular  justice  the  distribution  to  individuals  of  honors  or  distinctions 
which  are  at  the  disposal  of  the  community,  this  being  distributive  justice. 
Commutative  and  distributive  justice  are  the  two  divisions  of  private 
justice. 


CHAPTER  XV 

GROUP  LIFE  AND  THE  STATE 

I.  The  fundamental  principle  of  group  life. 

II.  The  Unity  of  the  group  and  the  inalienable  rights  of  its  members. 

III.  The  family. 

IV.  Origin  of  authority  in  the  State. 

V.  Government  is  an  officium  or  duty. 

VI.  The  Sovereign  People  and  its  Representatives. 

VII.  The  duties  of  the  Sovereign,  and  the  Legislative  Power. 

VIII.  Social  Justice  and  the  Commonwealth. 

I.  The  fundamental  principle  of  group  life.  Man  is  in- 
tended by  nature  to  form  a  society.  The  group  life 
is  necessary,  for  if  left  to  himself  in  an  isolated  state,  an 
individual  would  be  deprived  of  the  materials,  the  intel- 
lectual guidance,  and  moral  support  necessary  for  the 
attainment  of  happiness.  The  group  life  is  necessary 
precisely  and  only  because  of  this  insufficiency  of  the 
individual  for  his  own  needs. 

In  this  way,  then,  we  justify  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  life  in  society,  which  we  may  enunciate  as  fol- 
lows: "The  collectivity  exists  for  the  sake  of  the  indi- 
vidual, and  not  the  individual  for  the  collectivity." 
Similarly,  the  well-being  of  a  group  will  not  differ  in 
kind  from  that  of  the  individuals  which  compose  it. 

The  principle  is  a  general  one,  and  applies  to  do- 
mestic groups,  political  (village,  city,  state),  religious 
(parish,  abbey,  diocese,  Christendom),  and  economic 
ones  (e.g.,  trade  union  or  guild).  It  is  based  u))()u 
general  ethics,  which  empliasizes  the  value  of  human 
personality,  and  tliis  moral  individualism,  il.self  one  of 

117 


118  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

the  most  striking  achievements  of  the  civiHzation  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  is  in  turn  hnked  to  metaphysics, 
which  recognizes  no  other  existent,  substantial  reality 
than  the  individual,  in  the  particular  sphere  in  question. 

II.  The  Uiiity  of  the  group  and  the  inalienable  rights  of 
its  members.  The  collectivity  therefore  is  not  a  sub- 
stance as  such,  as  is  taught  by  some  contemporary 
philosophers,  and  the  very  notion  of  'a  collective  per- 
son' is  contradictory  (X,  1).  Its  unity  is  not  the  in- 
ternal unity  which  belongs  to  a  natural  substance,  and 
which  ensures  coherence  within  it,  but  rather  an  exter- 
nal unity.  Each  member  of  a  group  retains  his  value 
as  a  person,  but  his  activities  are  united  or  rather  co- 
ordinated with  those  of  others.  This  is  specially  true  of 
the  State,  "which  comprises  many  persons,  whose 
varied  activities  combine  to  produce  its  well-being."  ^ 

The  unity  of  a  social  group  or  of  the  State  is  a  "  unity 
of  functions"  exercised  by  the  different  members.  The 
only  difference  between  natural  groups  (such  as  the 
family  or  the  State)  and  artificial  ones  (such  as  a  club 
or  a  political  party)  is  that  the  working  in  common  is 
necessary  in  the  first  case  and  not  in  the  second. 

Since  the  group  exists  for  the  sake  of  the  members, 
it  goes  without  saying  that  it  cannot  take  away  or 
modify  those  inalienable  rights  which  are  expressions 
of  the  personality,  i.e.,  which  belong  to  the  individual 
as  possessing  a  rational  nature.  Whether  he  be  slave 
or  free,  rich  or  poor,  ruler  or  ruled,  an  individual  has 
"the  right  to  preserve  his  life,  to  marry  and  to  bring 
up  children,  to  develop  his  intelligence,  to  be  instructed, 
to  hold  to  the  truth,  to  live  in  Society."  ^    These  are 

1  Summa  Theol.,  P  IP«,  q.  96,  art.  1.  ^  m^^  q  94^  ^rt.  2. 


GROUP  LITE  AND  THE  STATE  119 

some  of  the  prerogatives  of  the  individual  which  appear 
in  the  thirteenth-century  Declaration  of  the  Rights  of 
Man. 

Among  the  various  natural  groups,  scholastic  philos- 
ophers paid  most  attention  to  the  family  and  the  State. 

III.  The  family.  The  family,  which  forms  the  cell  of 
the  social  organism,  comprises  the  husband,  wife, 
children,  and  servants.  The  father  is  the  head  of  this 
group,  and  derives  his  authority  from  God  (XV,  4).  Al- 
though the  wife  belongs  in  a  sense  to  the  husband  (she 
is  said  to  be  some  part  of  the  husband) ,  her  independ- 
ence relative  to  her  husband  is  greater  than  that  of 
children  relative  to  their  father,  or  servants  to  their 
masters.  The  subordination  of  a  child  to  his  father  is 
complete,  as  is  that  of  a  serf  to  his  master. 

From  this  it  follows  that  there  will  be  stricter  rela- 
tions of  'justice'  between  husband  and  wife  than  be- 
tween father  and  children,  master  and  serfs,  for,  as  we 
have  seen  above,  justice  requires  a  distinction  {ad 
alterum)  between  persons.  But  always  the  individual 
rights  of  human  beings  remain.  As  for  the  serfs,  the 
thirteenth  century  was  not  prepared  to  give  them 
complete  enfranchisement,  but  still  their  condition  was 
altogether  different  from  the  slavery  of  antiquity  and 
the  early  Middle  Ages.  Moreover,  both  canonical  and 
civil  legislation  were  constantly  bettering  their  con- 
dition. 

IV.  Origin  of  authority  in  the  State.  Whether  great  or 
small,  a  State  consists  of  a  group  of  families  under  the 
authority  or  power  of  one  or  several  persons.  Whence 
comes  this  sovereignty,  i.e.,  the  power  of  a  num  to 
command  and  rule  his  fellows?    Schoolmen  reply  that 


120  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

all  power  comes  from  God,  and  explain  this  as  follows: 
The  whole  universe  is  regulated  by  the  plan  of  Divine 
Providence,  the  eternal  law  of  all  reality  {lex  aeterna). 
Each  individual  thing  contributes,  by  attaining  to  its 
own  end,  to  the  realization  of  this  divine  plan  and  the 
object  of  the  whole.  In  consequence,  man  will  play  his 
part  in  the  cosmic  order  ordained  by  God  for  the  Uni- 
verse precisely  by  achieving  the  destiny  which  belongs 
to  him  as  a  rational  being  and  thus  ensuring  his  happi- 
ness (XII,  1,2).  Now,  since  the  group  life  was  instituted 
in  order  to  help  individuals  to  attain  their  ends,  the 
governing  authority  which  forms  a  necessary  element 
of  a  society  (ratio  guhernationis)  must  be  a  way  of 
realizing  the  divine  plan,  and  ultimately  come  from 
God  also. 

"Since  the  eternal  law  is  the  reason  or  explanation  of 
government  in  the  chief  ruler,  the  reason  for  governing 
rulers  must  also  be  derived  from  the  eternal  law."  ^ 
Rulers  are  therefore  divine  delegates.  The  theory  is  a 
general  one,  and  applies  to  every  kind  of  authority. 
In  the  case  of  the  State,  it  does  not  matter  by  what 
means  this  divine  power  is  transmitted,  or  in  whom  it 
is  found.    These  are  points  for  separate  consideration. 

V.  Government  is  an  officium  or  duty.  The  raison  d'etre 
of  government  determines  its  nature:  it  is  utilitarian, 
an  officium,  'office'  or  duty.  The  princes  of  the  earth 
are  instituted  by  God  not  in  order  that  they  may  seek 
their  own  profit,  but  in  order  that  they  may  ensure  the 
common  well-being.  Even  in  the  case  of  the  papal 
theocracy,  the  idea  of  officium  is  always  found  with 
that  of  power,  and  the  Pope  describes  himself  as  the 

1  Summa  TheoL,  I*  II»«,  q.  93,  art.  3. 


GROUP  LIFE  AND  THE  STATE  121 

semis  servorum  Dei,  servant  of  the  servants  of  God. 
Hence  all  treatises  written  for  the  use  of  princes  and 
future  monarchs  condemn  the  capricious,  selfish,  arbi- 
trary or  tyrannical  exercise  of  power. 

Thomas  builds  up  a  whole  system  of  guarantees  in 
order  to  save  the  State  from  a  government  so  completely 
opposed  to  its  nature.^  The  guarantees  are  preventive 
in  the  first  place :  let  the  people  carefully  inquire  con- 
cerning the  candidate  for  power  w^hen  choosing  their 
ruler.  Similar  guarantees  will  exist  throughout  the 
monarch's  reign,  for  his  power  will  be  controlled  and 
countered  by  the  intervention  of  other  factors,  as  we 
shall  shortly  see.  There  are  likewise  repressive  guaran- 
tees: resistance  to  unjust  commands  of  a  tyrant  is  not 
only  permitted,  but  even  enjoined.  Thomas  expressly 
condemns  tyrannicide:  one  must  go  to  any  length  in 
order  to  put  up  with  an  unjust  ruler,  but  if  the  regime 
becomes  quite  unsupportable,  then  one  must  have  re- 
course to  that  power  of  deposing  the  monarch  which  is 
the  corollary  of  the  right  to  choose  one.  This  doctrine 
holds  good  whatever  be  the  nature  of  government,  — 
monarchy,  aristocracy,  or  democracy.  This  brings  us 
to  the  question  of  the  depository  of  power. 

VI.  The  Sovereign  People  and  its  Representatives.  To 
understand  properly  the  thomistic  view  on  the  seat  of 
authority  or  of  government  in  the  State,  we  must  dis- 
tinguish as  he  does  between  two  questions:  (a)  where 
is  the  seat  of  sovereignty  in  any  case,  (6)  what  is  the 
most  perfect  form  of  government.'^ 

(a)  At  the  outset,  and  in  every  state,  sovereignty 
belongs  to  the  collectivity,  i.e.,  the  sum  total  of  individ- 

'  De  liegimine  Principum,  lib.  I,  cap.  6. 


122  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

uals.  The  people  are  the  State.  This  is  logical,  for  the 
only  realities  in  society  are  the  individuals,  and  apart 
from  them  the  State  is  nothing,  and  moreover,  govern- 
ment has  as  its  object  the  well-being  of  all  (2,  5).  The 
doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  the  people  is  thus  no 
modern  invention. 

But  the  collectivity  or  sum  total  of  individuals  is  too 
complicated,  too  chaotic,  to  exercise  power  itself.  In 
its  turn,  therefore,  the  collectivity  delegates  it  usually, 
but  not  necessarily,  to  a  monarch.  For  in  theory  one 
could  choose  instead  an  aristocratic  or  a  republican 
form  of  government:  "To  ordain  something  for  the 
common  good  belongs  either  to  the  whole  community, 
or  to  someone  taking  the  place  of  the  community."  ^ 
Thus  power  is  transmitted  by  successive  delegation  from 
God  to  the  people,  and  from  the  people  to  the  ruler. 
The  people  hold  it  by  a  natural  title  which  nothing  can 
destroy,  the  king  holds  it  by  the  will  of  the  people,  and 
this  may  change.  There  is,  accordingly,  at  the  base  of 
the  people's  delegation  to  the  king  a  contract,  rudimen- 
mentary  or  implicit  in  less  perfect  forms  of  society, 
explicit  in  States  which  have  arrived  at  a  high  degree  of 
organization.  This  will  of  the  people,  which  can  make 
itself  known  in  many  different  ways,  legitimatizes  the 
exercise  of  power.  Monarchy,  in  the  opinion  of  Thomas, 
has  the  advantage  of  not  scattering  power  and  force. 
But  he  adds  that  circumstances  must  decide  which  is 
the  best  form  of  government  at  a  particular  moment  in 
the  political  life  of  a  nation.  This  gives  his  theory  all 
the  elasticity  which  could  be  desired. 

(6)  Still,  he  himself  shows  a  very  marked  preference 
for  a  composite  form,  which  he  considers  to  be  the  most 

1  Summa  TheoL,  I"  1"%  q.  90,  art.  3. 


GROUP  LIFE  AND  THE  STATE  123 

perfect  realization  of  delegated  authority.  It  is  a  mixed 
system  of  government,  in  which  sovereignty  belongs 
to  the  people,  with  the  intervention  of  an  elective 
monarchy,  and  an  oligarchy  which  modifies  the  mon- 
arch's exercise  of  power.  "The  best  regime  will  be  real- 
ized in  that  city  or  state,  in  which  one  alone  commands 
all  the  others  bv  reason  of  his  virtue,  where  some  sub- 
ordinate  rulers  command  according  to  their  merit,  but 
where  nevertheless  power  belongs  to  all,  either  because 
all  are  eligible  as  rulers,  or  simply  because  all  are  electors. 
Now  this  is  the  case  in  a  government  which  consists  of  a 
happy  combination  of  royalty,  inasmuch  as  there  is  only 
one  head,  of  aristocracy  inasmuch  as  many  collaborate 
in  the  work  of  government,  according  to  their  virtue, 
and  of  democracy  or  popular  power  inasmuch  as  the 
rulers  may  be  chosen  from  among  the  people,  and  it  be- 
longs to  the  people  to  elect  their  rulers."  ^  Aquinas 
affirms  such  political  principles  as  universal  suffrage,  the 
right  of  the  lowest  of  men  to  be  raised  to  power,  the 
appreciation  of  personal  value  and  virtue,  the  domina- 
tion of  reason  in  those  who  govern  or  an  'enlightened 
government,'  an  elective  system  giving  the  means  of 
choosing  those  most  worthy,  and  the  necessity  of  the 
political  education  of  the  people. 

VII.  The  duties  of  the  Sovereign,  and  the  Legislative  Power. 
In  De  Regimine  Principum,  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  the 
ruler  is  charged  with  a  threefold  duty:  he  must  estab- 
lish the  well-being  of  the  whole,  conserve  it,  and  im- 

>  Ibid.,  q.  97,  art.  1 .  The  servi  are  deprived  of  political  rights  because  of 
their  lack  of  adequate  culture;  heretics  and  Jews  because  Catholic  civiliza- 
tion was  then  looked  upon  as  the  only  existing  civilization,  and  he  who 
rebels  against  the  Church  necessarily  rebels  against  the  State  also.  But  only 
political  rights  are  here  in  question,  not  civil  rights. 


124  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

prove  it,^  First  he  must  establish  the  common  weal  by 
preserving  peace  among  the  citizens  (sometimes  peace 
is  referred  to  as  conrenieniia  voluntatum,  —  agreement 
of  wills),  by  encouraging  the  citizens  to  lead  a  moral 
life,  and  providing  a  sufficient  abundance  of  the  material 
things  which  are  necessary  to  it.  The  public  weal  once 
established,  the  next  duty  is  to  conserve  it.  This  is 
accomplished  by  assuring  the  appointment  of  sufficient 
and  capable  agents  of  administration,  by  repressing 
disorder,  by  encouraging  morality  through  a  system  of 
rewards  and  punishments,  and  by  protecting  the  state 
against  the  attacks  of  external  enemies.  Finally  the 
government  is  charged  with  a  third  mission,  which  is 
vague,  more  elastic:  to  rectify  abuses,  to  make  up  for 
defects,  to  work  for  progress. 

The  means  par  excellence  by  which  a  Government  is 
enabled  to  fulfil  its  threefold  task  is  the  power  of  making 
laws,  i.e.,  of  commanding.  The  thomistic  theory  of  hu- 
man or  positive  law,  in  its  double  form  of  jus  gentiumy 
law  of  the  nations,  common  to  all  states,  and  jus 
civile,  civil  law,  proper  to  individual  states,  is  closely 
connected  with  the  theory  of  law  in  general.  For  the 
civil  law  is,  and  can  only  be,  a  derivation  from  the 
natural  law,  and  in  consequence  it  ultimately  comes 
from  the  eternal  law  (XIII,  2).  Here  once  again  the  in- 
dividual is  protected  against  the  State,  for  "in  the  meas- 
ure that  positive  law  is  in  disagreement  with  the  natural 
law,  it  is  no  longer  a  law,  but  a  corruption  of  law.^  In 
this  way  the  arbitrary  element  is  banished  from  posi- 
tive law,  which  is  accordingly  defined  as  "a  rational 
injunction,  made  in  view  of  the  common  good,  and 

*  Lib.  I,  cap.  15. 

*  Summa  Theol.,  I*  IP*,  q.  95,  art  2.  Tribunals  can  correct  the  posi- 
tive law  by  means  of  the  natural  law,  if  necessary. 


GROUP  LIFE  AND  THE  STATE  125 

promulgated  by  the  one  having  charge  of  the  com- 
munity." 1  Positive  law  adapts  to  concrete  circum- 
stances the  immediate  prescriptions  of  the  natural  law, 
which  in  their  abstract  form  belong  to  the  law  of  nations. 
For  instance,  the  law  of  nations  enjoins  that  malefactors 
are  to  be  punished.  Positive  law  determines  whether 
the  punishment  is  to  be  by  fine,  imprisonment,  etc. 
Positive  law  is  therefore  at  once  fixed  and  variable.  It 
changes  with  circumstances,  and  it  belongs  to  a  govern- 
ment to  modify  it  if  necessary,  always  on  condition  that 
it  bears  in  mind  that  every  modification  of  a  law  lessens 
its  force  and  majesty. 

VIII.  Social  Justice  and  the  Commomoealth.  The  com- 
mon good  is  the  result  of  good  government  and  the 
reign  of  social  justice.  Thomas'  views  on  social  justice 
and  solidarity  are  worthy  of  note.  To  understand  them 
we  must  bear  in  mind  what  we  have  said  of  the  notion 
of  right  and  of  justice  (XIV,  3). 

A  compensation  is  due  to  each  individual  for  what- 
ever benefit  accrues  from  his  acts,  and  right  is  simply 
the  requirement  that  this  equal  adjustment  be  made. 
To  render  to  each  one  his  due  is  to  do  justice.  When  the 
act  benefits  an  entire  community,  social  justice  arises. 

Hence,  social  justice  demands  two  elements:  (a)  that 
the  actions  of  the  individual  citizen  or  of  the  several 
members  of  a  group  be  conducted  in  such  a  way  that 
the  community,  i.e.  all  its  members,  shall  be  benefited 
thereby;  (6)  that,  in  return,  the  individual  should  re- 
ceive from  the  community  an  adequate  compensation. 

Social  justice  thus  understood  rests  upon  a  solemn 
affirmation  of  solidaritv  and  mutual  assistance.    Everv 

'  Ibid.,  q.  90,  art.  4. 


126  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

human  action,  inasmuch  as  it  is  performed  in  a  com- 
munity, has  its  reaction  upon  that  community,  and 
benefits  or  harms  it  more  or  less,  in  some  way.^  The 
soldier  who  fights,  the  laborer  who  works,  and  the 
scholar  who  studies  are  engaged  in  social  activities 
which,  being  such,  do  good  to  the  whole  community. 
Even  the  outbursts  of  individual  passions  admit  of 
being  referred  to  social  justice,  and  "can  be  regulated 
with  a  view  to  the  common  good,"  ^  since  these  out- 
bursts intensify  action,  and  every  action  has  its  echo 
in  society. 

Who  ensures  this  convergence  of  individual  activities? 
An  individual  citizen  is  obviously  without  the  qualifi- 
cations necessary  for  this  task.  It  therefore  belongs  to 
the  ruler  to  orient  all  good  acts  towards  the  common 
good  of  all.  He  is  the  custos  jiisti,  the  justiim  animatum, 
—  the  guardian  of  right,  the  living  embodiment  of 
justice.^  He  is  the  architectonic  chief  (architectonice) . 
Just  as  the  master  builder  of  the  cathedral  supervises 
the  stonecutters,  the  carpenters,  the  sculptors,  the 
painters,  so  that  they  may  be  ready  at  the  proper  time 
and  place,  so  the  master  builder  of  social  justice  oversees 
all  the  diverse  social  activities  and  takes  account  of 
their  relative  importance  in  the  community.  It  belongs 
to  the  ruler  to  see  that  the  soldier  fights,  the  scholar 
studies,  the  laborer  works,  etc.,  in  such  a  way  that  all 
their  activities  may  be  directed  to  the  realization  of 
the  harmony  of  the  body  politic.  He  must  think  out 
the  best  way  of  ensuring  mutual  assistance  in  order  that 
everything  may  be  of  profit  to  all.  His  intervention 
will  above  all  regulate  all  external  actions:    such  as 

1  Ibid.,  q.  58,  art.  5.     Cf.  art.  6.  ^  ji^ij^  art.  1,  ad  5. 

^  Ibid.,  art.  9,  ad.  3. 


GROUP  LIFE  AND  THE  STATE  127 

diligence  in  work,  temperance,  meekness.  But  if  neces- 
sary he  will  also  occupy  himself  with  actions  which 
belong  to  the  '  internal  forum.'  ^ 

How  is  the  ruler  to  carry  out  this  high  humanitarian 
mission.^  He  can  only  do  so  by  way  of  commandment. 
For,  he  possesses  the  virtue  of  justice  as  commanding 
{per  modum  imperaniis  et  dirigentis) ,  while  the  citizens 
share  in  it  only  as  obeying  (per  modum  executionifi) .-  At 
first  sight  this  looks  like  an  intolerable  and  autocratic 
notion,  a  worship  of  the  state,  etatisme,  which  is  bound 
to  destroy  individual  autonomy.  But  these  fears  are 
groundless.  The  theory  contains  within  itself  the  cor- 
rectives for  those  abuses  to  which  it  seems  to  open  the 
door,  for  the  realization  of  the  common  good  is  the  one 
and  only  motive  which  can  render  legitimate  the  inter- 
vention of  the  ruler.  And  this  common  good  "is  no 
other  than  the  good  of  each  one  of  the  rnembers  of  the 
collectivity.'''  ^  An  arbitrary  intervention  on  the  part 
of  the  ruler  which  would  be  destructive  of  individual 
good  —  and  thus  of  liberty  —  would  be  contrary  to  the 
common  good,  and  as  a  consequence  to  social  justice. 

>  Ibid.,  art.  9.  2  Ibid.,  q.  58,  art.  1,  ad.  5. 

'  Ibid.,  q.  58,  art.  9.  The  ruler  is  not  only  the  arbiter  of  social  and  legal 
justice,  but  he  also  contributes  to  the  reign  of  particular  justice:  firstly, 
by  distributing  honors,  distinctions,  offices,  etc.,  to  the  citizens  in  a  way 
conformable  to  the  requirements  of  distributive  justice  {actus  distributionin, 
qui  est  communium  bonorum,  pertinet  solum  ad  pracsidentem  Communibus 
bonis.  The  act  of  distribution  of  common  goods  pertains  only  to  the  one  pre- 
siding over  common  goods.  I"  II"",  q.  61,  art.  1);  .secondly,  by  enunciating 
in  his  courts  of  law  the  private  rights  (jus)  of  the  citizens,  as  required  by 
commutative  justice  (determinare  jus,  judicium  .  .  .  importat  .  .  .  defini- 
tionem  vel  detcrminationem  justi  site  juris.  It  belongs  to  a  judge  to  define 
or  determine  that  which  is  just  or  right.  Q.  CO,  art.  1).  Tlioinas  condemns 
any  intriguing  in  courts  of  law  {acccplio  pcr.ionaruiii),  and,  in  conformity 
with  his  moral  optimism,  he  holds  with  the  Roman  lawyers  that  the  accused 
should  have  the  benefit  of  doubt  (ibid.,  q.  63). 


128  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

The  doctrine  of  social  justice  constitutes  in  the 
thomistic  system  an  ideal  which  governments  must 
never  forget,  and  which  they  must  realize  to  the  full- 
est measure  consonant  with  the  actual  conditions  of  a 
given  civilization. 

As  to  the  compensation  to  the  individual,  which  is 
owed  by  the  community  for  services  done,  it  is  again 
the  ruler  who  should  decide  as  to  the  demands  of  social 
justice,  although  Thomas  Aquinas  does  not  insist  upon 
this  second  aspect  of  the  question. 


CHAPTER  X\  I 

THE  CONSTRUCTION  OF  THE  SCIENCES 

I.  Logic  as  a  teaching  method,  and  as  a  branch  of  philosophy. 

II.  Judgment. 

III.  Reasoning. 

rV.  Scientific  sj'stematization  and  its  methods. 

I.  Logic  as  a  teaching  method,  and  as  a  branch  of  philoso- 
phy. Thomas  asks  whether  logic  is  an  art  or  a  science, 
and  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  both. 

The  thirteenth  century,  in  fact,  considered  logic  as 
an  art  and  retained  the  practice  of  exercises  in  logic. 
At  the  universities  of  Paris  and  Oxford,  students  were 
trained  in  the  analysis  of  syllogisms,  the  refutation  of 
sophisms,  and  the  discussion  of  arguments  for  and 
against  a  given  thesis.  This  kind  of  logic,  which  the 
early  Middle  Ages  placed  among  the  seven  liberal  arts 
under  the  name  of  Dialectica,  is  not  strictly  speaking 
a  branch  of  philosophy. 

But,  side  by  side  with  this  instrumental  logic  destined 
to  discipline  the  mind,  as  athletic  exercises  train  the 
muscles,  the  philosophers  of  the  thirteenth  century  rec- 
ognize and  cultivate  a  philosophical  logic  which  con- 
sists in  a  study  of  the  architecture  of  human  knowledge 
or  of  the  methods  adopted  by  the  mind  in  the  construc- 
tion of  the  sciences,  whether  particular  or  philosophical. 
In  this  meaning  of  the  term,  logic  itself  is  a  science.  It 
takes  as  its  subject  matter  the  whole  content  of  knowl- 
edge, in  order  to  study  the  laws  which  govern  its  co- 
ordination, synthesis,  and  systematization;  and  just 
as  knowledge  reaches  an  objective  reality,  logic  too,  in 
the  final  analysis  leads  us  to  truth  and  to  certitude. 

1S9 


130  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

We  may  say  that  in  the  reahn  of  their  logic,  the  School- 
men not  only  followed  but  also  completed  Aristotle. 

II.  Judgment.  The  most  elementary  construction  of 
knowledge  is  the  judgment,  or  the  perception  that  a 
content  of  representation  (for  instance,  'white')  ap- 
plies or  does  not  apply  to  another  (for  instance,  '  snow ') . 
It  consists  in  the  union  or  disunion  of  the  two  contents 
of  representation  (II,  4). 

Science  has  to  do  with  only  one  kind  of  judgment, 
the  necessary  and  universal  judgment,  known  as  a 
'law.'  Scientia  non  est  de  particular ibus.  —  Science  has 
nothing  to  do  with  particular  cases,  or  mere  'atomic 
propositions.'  The  logical  law,  or  judgment,  may  be 
dependent  upon,  or  independent  of  experience.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  is  included  in  one  of  the  two  classes  of 
judgments  which  we  have  called  above  judgments  of 
the  existential  and  of  the  ideal  order  (IV,  2). 

Let  us  consider  each  of  these  classes  in  more  detail. 

(a)  With  judgments  of  the  ideal  order,  we  are  con- 
fronted with  the  process  of  pure  deduction.  An  under- 
standing and  a  comprehension  of  the  subject  and  the 
predicate  are  sufficient  in  making  the  necessity  of  their 
connection  evident,  —  just  as  in  order  to  affirm  the 
principle  of  contradiction  it  is  enough  to  understand 
the  meaning  of  being  and  non-being. 

Mathematical  judgments  are  of  this  sort;  and  the 
only  difference  between  these  and  the  directing  prin- 
ciples of  knowledge  is  that  the  latter  are  the  foundation 
of  all  affirmation,  whereas  mathematical  judgments 
relate  only  to  a  special  field,  namely  quantity. 

Moreover,  the  judgments  of  ideal  order  with  which 
mathematics  is  concerned  belongs  to  the  same  two 


CONSTRUCTION  OF  SCIENCES  131 

tj^pes  which  we  already  discussed  in  connection  with 
the  directing  principles.  Thus  mathematics  com- 
prehends: 

(a)  Judgments  in  which  the  subject  considered  in  its 
essential  elements  includes  the  predicate,  as  for  in- 
stance, 2  -1-2  =4. 

(/3)  Judgments  in  which  the  predicate  is  not  included 
in  the  subject,  although  a  comparison  of  the  content  of 
both  is  sufficient  to  make  the  necessity  of  their  connec- 
tion evident.  That  every  number  is  either  odd  or  even, 
remarks  Thomas  Aquinas,  is  a  judgment  belonging  to 
that  second  type.  The  content  of  odd  or  even  is  not 
comprehended  in  the  notion  of  number,  but  from  the 
mere  comparison  of  both  it  appears  that  being  odd  or 
even  is  a  necessary  property  of  every  number. 

(b)  With  the  judgments  of  the  existential  order,  we 
are  confronted  with  the  process  of  induction.  A  com- 
prehension of  the  meaning  of  chlorine  and  oxygen  is  not 
sufficient  to  reveal  the  law  governing  their  combination. 
Observation  and  experiences  are  needed  in  order  to 
discover  how  they  react  to  one  another;  and  the  law 
is  obtained  by  applying  to  observation  and  experience 
such  directing  principles  as  those  of  sufficient  reason 
and  causality.  For,  these  two  principles  justify  us  in 
concluding  that  the  convergence  and  constancy  of  ob- 
served phenomena  (as  for  instance  the  boiling  of  water 
under  the  action  of  heat)  can  only  be  explained  by 
reference  to  a  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  substance  to 
act  in  a  particular  way,  a  tendency  which  is  stable,  and 
rests  upon  the  nature  of  the  thing  in  question  (thus  it 
is  of  the  nature  of  water  to  boil  at  100°  C).  The  School- 
men did  not  study  the  methods  of  experiment  with 
care  and  detail.    This  was  only  to  be  expected,  seeing 


132  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

that  the  experimental  sciences  were  in  an  undeveloped 
state  in  those  times.  But  we  already  find  among  them 
—  notably  in  John  Duns  Scotus,  who  flourished  a  few 
years  after  Thomas  —  a  keen  analysis  of  the  methods 
of  induction,  or  the  ways  by  which  we  may  pass  from 
the  observation  of  particular  cases  to  the  law  which 
governs  all. 

III.  Reasoning.  A  process  of  reasoning  is  itself  a  sys- 
tem of  judgments,  since  it  consists  in  passing  from 
judgments  already  known  to  another  less  known  or  not 
known  at  all.  The  syllogism,  which  is  the  simplest 
expression  of  reasoning,  consists  of  three  judgments. 
It  starts  out  from  the  enunciation  of  a  law,  or  of  a 
necessary  relation,  based  upon  the  nature  of  things 
(for  instance,  "it  is  of  the  nature  of  a  spiritual  being 
to  be  simple,  i.e.,  without  parts"),  and  proceeds  to 
show  that  this  law  applies  to  all  or  certain  beings  seen 
to  be  comprised  under  the  extension  of  the  law  (for 
instance,  "the  human  soul,  belonging  as  it  does  to  the 
category  of  spiritual  beings,  is  endowed  with  simplic- 
ity"). The  law,  which  is  the  foundation  of  the  syllo- 
gism, belongs  to  either  class  of  judgments,  as  it  is  de- 
pendent upon  or  independent  of  experience.  The  result 
of  a  syllogism  is  a  new  judgment,  so  that  the  judgment 
is  the  unit  of  logical  construction,  with  which  all  knowl- 
edge begins  and  ends. 

IV.  Scientific  systematization  and  its  methods.  1.  First 
principles  of  each  science.  —  Isolated  reasonings  could 
not  make  a  science.  In  their  turn  they  are  connected 
together  like  the  links  of  a  chain:  each  finds  its  justi- 
fication in  a  previous  inference.  But  there  must  be  a 
beginning  to  the  process,  —  there  must  be  something 


CONSTRUCTION  OF  SCIENCES  183 

from  which  the  whole  chain  may  hang.     An  infinite 
regression  would  render  all  knowledge  impossible. 

There  are  therefore  at  the  base  of  each  and  every 
science  certain  indemonstrable  judgments,  known  as 
the  first  principles  of  the  science  in  question.  They 
formulate  certain  very  simple  and  evident  relationshij^s, 
and  are  derived  from  the  subject  matter  of  the  science. 
Their  enunciation  may  or  may  not  presuppose  obser- 
vation, according  to  the  nature  of  the  subject  matter 
of  the  science.  Thus  that  1+1  =  2  is  a  principle  of 
arithmetic;  that  the  group  life  is  for  the  sake  of  the 
individual  members  is  a  principle  of  social  science. 
These  principles,  which  do  not  admit  of  further  definition 
or  demonstration,  constitute  the  limits  and  boundaries 
of  each  science.  They  consist  generally  of  '  defini- 
tions,' inasmuch  as  they  make  clear  what  is  the  object 
studied  by  each  particular  science.  We  see,  then,  that 
besides  the  governing  principles  of  all  knowledge 
which  are  common  to  every  science,  like  the  principle 
of  contradiction,  each  science  has  its  own  fundamental 
principles.  1 

1  Scheme  of  scientific  judgments.  If  we  bear  in  mind  that  there  are  two 
types  of  judgments,  namely  judgments  of  the  ideal  and  of  the  existential 
order  (IV,  2),  and  that  the  first  type  includes  two  classes,  we  may  establish 
the  following  scheme  of  judgments  which  are  involved  in  any  science. 

A.  Axioms,  relating  to  all  being,  and  common  to  all  the  sciences:  these  are 
judgments  of  the  ideal  order,  especially  of  the  second  class. 

B.  Judgments  proper  to  certain  sciences. 

1.  Deductive  sciences:    judgments  of  the  ideal  order  (both  classes). 
They  are  either 

(a)  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  science  in  question;  immedi- 
ate and  self-evident  judgments.   Example,  1  =  1. 

(6)  mediate,  or  calling  for  demonstration,  e.g.,  the  complicated 
theorems  of  geometry. 

2.  Experimental  sciences:   judgments  of  the  existential  order. 

(a)  immediate  or  self-evident,  e.g.,  "I  think,  therefore  I  exist." 
{b)   mediate,  e.g.,  "water  boils  at  100°  C." 


134  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

2.  Material  and  formal  object  of  each  science. — The 
numerous  reasonings  which  go  to  make  up  a  science, 
together  with  its  definitions  and  the  first  principles 
which  constitute  its  basis,  form  one  coherent  whole,  a 
unified  system.  The  unity  which  runs  through  the 
whole,  and  is  more  or  less  evident  according  to  the  im- 
portance of  each  section,  depends  on  the  'formal  ob- 
ject' of  the  science.    What  does  this  mean,^ 

The  Schoolmen  point  out  that  in  every  science  there 
is  room  to  distinguish  between  the  things  themselves 
which  are  studied  —  the  raw  material  of  the  science, 
its  'material  object '  —  and  the  point  of  view,  or  aspect 
from  which  these  materials  are  considered  ('formal 
object').  For  example,  the  human  body  is  the  material 
studied  by  physiology,  but  this  only  considers  it  from 
one  point  of  view,  namely,  that  of  the  functions  ex- 
ercised by  its  organs.  This  point  of  view  is  grasped  as 
a  result  of  abstraction,  so  that  abstraction  (II,  3)  is  the 
generative  process  which  underlies  all  science. 

Every  reasoning  or  principle  must  express  in  some 
way  the  formal  object  of  the  science  in  question.  Thus 
in  physiology,  every  doctrine  ought  to  be  concerned 
with  the  functional  role  of  organs.  It  is  the  'formal 
object '  which  gives  each  science  its  distinctive  character, 
and  makes  it  what  it  is, — hence  the  designation  of 
formal  ^  object.  Whence  it  follows,  that  two  sciences 
may  possess  the  same  subject  matter,  may  have  the 
same  'raw  material,'  but  unless  they  are  to  be  identical, 
each  must  study  this  material  from  a  distinct  and  sepa- 
rate point  of  view.  Thus  anatomy  also  studies  the  hu- 
man body,  but  from  the  point  of  view  of  its  structure. 

1  Informal,  we  find  the  determination,  which  belongs  to  the /orma.    Cf. 
p.  71. 


CONSTRUCTION  OF  SCIENCES  135 

If  it  wei  e  to  concern  itself  with  functions,  it  would  tres- 
pass upon  and  identify  itself  with  physiology,  and  one 
or  the  other  would  have  to  disappear. 

Thomas  applies  this  theory  of  the  specification  of 
sciences  to  philosophy  and  theology,  which  have  to 
some  extent  the  same  material  object,  but  of  which 
the  formal  points  of  view  are  quite  distinct.  "A  differ- 
ence in  the  point  of  view  from  which  the  mind  contem- 
plates the  object  entails  a  diversity  in  the  branches  of 
knowledge  {diver sa  ratio  cognoscihilis  diversitntem  scien- 
tiarum  inducit) .  The  astronomer  and  the  physicist  both 
may  prove  the  same  conclusion, —  that  the  earth,  for 
instance,  is  round:  the  astronomer  by  means  of  mathe- 
matics (i.e.,  abstracting  from  matter),  but  the  physicist 
by  means  of  matter  itself.  Hence  there  is  no  reason  why 
those  things  which  may  be  learned  from  philosoi)hical 
science,  so  far  as  they  can  be  known  by  natural  reason, 
may  not  also  be  taught  us  by  another  science  so  far  as 
they  fall  within  revelation.  Hence  theology  included 
in  Sacred  Doctrine  differs  in  kind  from  that  theology 
which  is  part  of  philosophy."  ^ 

This  justifies  what  we  said  at  the  beginning,  that 
scholastic  Philosophy  is  quite  different  from  scholastic 
Theology,  despite  the  relation  between  them,  of  which 
there  will  be  made  a  brief  mention  toward  the  end  of 
this  work. 

On  these  notions  of  the  formal  and  material  object, 
the  scholastics  rest  their  classification  of  the  sciences 
whether  particular  or  general,  i.e.,  philosophical,  and 
their  division  of  philosophy  (Chap.  XVIII). 

1  Summa  TheoL,  I",  q.  1,  art.  1. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  ESTHETIC  ASPECT  OF  THE  UNIVERSE 

I.   Art,  Nature,  and  Beauty. 
II.   Objective  and  subjective  aspect  of  beauty. 

I.  Art,  Nature,  and  Beauty.  Themselves  contempora- 
ries of  a  tremendous  artistic  development,  which  ranks 
the  thirteenth  century  among  the  great  creative  epochs, 
the  Schoolmen  did  not  neglect  the  study  of  beauty  in 
art.  Any  external  product  of  man  may  possess  beauty, 
—  that  of  an  artisan  who  makes  furniture  just  as  much 
as  that  of  a  painter  of  pictures  or  a  builder  of  cathedrals. 
There  is  no  essential  distinction  between  arts  and  fine 
arts.  If  a  man  transforms  preexisting  realities,  then  he 
is  an  artist,  and  the  work  of  art  is,  says  Dante,  by  reason 
of  this  act,  a  godlike  creation. ^ 

Nature  also  is  beautiful.  St.  Bonaventure  compares 
the  universe  to  a  magnificent  symphony;  Duns  Scotus 
likens  it  to  a  superb  tree.  For  the  universe  realizes  and 
expresses  order  and  purpose. 

But  beauty  is  not  studied  from  the  special  point  of 
view  of  nature  or  of  art.  Scholastic  philosophy  con- 
siders it  in  a  general  way,  and  esthetics  becomes  a 
department  of  metaphysics  and  psychology.  Let  us 
select  therefrom  some  special  points. 

II.  Objective  and  subjective  aspect  of  beauty.  Above  all 
beauty  is  real  and  has  an  objective  aspect:   it  is  not  a 

'  See  author's  L'wuvre  d'art  et  la  beauti.  Conferences  philosophiques, 
Louvain,  1920.    Chaps.  VIII  and  IX. 

136 


ESTHETIC  ASPECT  OF  THE  UNIVERSE     137 

mere  mental  attitude.  Beauty  belongs  to  certain  ex- 
ternal things.  Where  is  it  found. ^  In  those  things  which 
realize  and  manifest  an  order  variously  described  as  the 
commensurafio  partium  elegans  by  Albert  the  Great, 
aequalitas  numerosa  by  Bonaventura,  debita  proporiio 
by  Thomas  Aquinas.  Multiplicity  of  parts,  variety, 
and  unity  of  plan  which  combines  the  parts  into  one 
coherent  whole,  —  such  are  the  elements  of  order  found 
in  all  beauty.  The  beauty  of  a  being  is  the  flowering 
of  the  reality  which  it  ought  to  possess  according  to  its 
nature,  and  which  is  called  its  natural  perfection.  Ac- 
cordingly the  unity  which  beauty  expresses  is  a  func- 
tion of  the  specific  principle  to  which  each  real  being 
owes  its  fundamental  determination,  and  which  we 
have  called  its  form  (IX,  4).  "The  beautiful  unifies 
everything  it  touches,  and  it  is  able  to  do  so  thanks  to 
the  form  of  the  being,  which  it  sets  out  in  relief."^  Per- 
fection and  form  are  both  teleological  functions.  That 
is  why  the  beauty  of  one  thing  is  distinct  from  the 
beauty  of  another.  An  artist  who  wishes  to  paint  the 
image  of  Christ  "must  reveal  in  the  face  the  light  of 
his  Divinity."  ^ 

But  not  everything  ordered  is  thereby  beautiful. 
Order  becomes  esthetic  only  when  it  speaks  clearly  and 
with  no  uncertain  voice  to  a  human  intelligence  by  means 
of  sensations,  and  thus  brings  to  the  mind  the  pleasure 
of  disinterested  contemplation.  Only  the  intelligence, 
which  has  being  as  its  object,  is  able  to  penetrate 
through  to  the  'form,'  and  discern  it  in  the  midst  of  the 
sense  impression  and  material  data  in  which  it  mani- 
fests itself.  Here  once  more  scholasticism  asserts  its 
intellectualism. 

'  Albehtis  Magnus,  Oqrusc.  de  pulcro  (edit.  Uccclli). 
*  In  Davidcm,  Ps.  44,  2. 


138  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Thus  the  objective  aspect  of  beauty  is  completed  by 
the  subjective  aspect,  or  the  impression  which  the 
beautiful  produces  within  us.  The  order  of  things  is 
necessarily  adapted  to  an  act  of  mental  contemplation 
of  which  it  is  the  content  and  terminus.  Or,  as  the 
Schoolmen  would  say,  order,  and  above  all  the  form 
of  the  being,  must  shine  forth  to  the  mind.  This  re- 
lationship between  the  beautiful  object  and  the  know- 
ing subject  is  seen  in  the  theory  of  the  daritas  pulcri, 
or  brilliancy  of  beauty.  The  more  the  form  shines  out, 
the  greater  and  deeper  will  be  the  impression  upon  the 
human  soul.  It  will  be  the  'substantial  form'  bursting 
through  the  perfection  of  a  type  or  a  species,  as  for 
instance  when  a  Greek  statue  represents  a  typical 
human  being;  or  more  often  some  'accidental  form' 
may  shine  out,^  as  for  instance  an  attitude  of  a  mother 
smiling  to  her  child.  The  brilliancy  of  the  form  is  a 
principle  of  unity  freely  chosen  by  the  artist  in  the 
work  of  art. 

Beauty  therefore  does  not  belong  exclusively  to 
things  as  the  Greeks  thought,  nor  to  the  subject  alone 
who  reacts  and  enjoys,  as  some  contemporary  philoso- 
phers maintain.  But  it  is  as  it  were  midway  between 
object  and  subject,  and  consists  in  a  correspondence 
between  the  two. 

1  Albertus  Magnus,  Opusc.  de  pulcro  (edit.  Uccelli).  Notio  pulcri,  in 
universal!  consistit  in  resplendentia  formae  (accidentalis)  super  partes 
materiae  proportionatas,  vel  super  diversas  vires  vel  actiones. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  SCIENCES  AND  DIMSIONS 

OF  PHILOSOPHY 

I.  Particular  and  General  Sciences. 

II.  Division  of  Philosophy. 

III.  Speculative  Philosophy. 

r\'.  Practical  Philosophy. 

I.  Particular  and  General  Sciences.  At  the  time  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  the  West  possessed  a  comprehen- 
sive classification  of  the  sciences,  which  we  may  well 
look  upon  as  one  of  the  characteristic  achievements  of 
the  mediaeval  mind,  and  which,  in  its  main  features, 
lasted  up  to  the  time  of  Wolf. 

At  the  lowest  stage  we  find  the  particular  sciences, — 
which  for  the  Schoolmen  were  the  same  as  the  experi- 
mental sciences.  Such  are  Astronomy,  Botany,  Zool- 
ogy, Human  Physiology,  Medicine,  also  Civil  and 
Canon  Law,  which  became  separate  and  autonomous 
sciences  in  the  twelfth  century. 

They  derive  their  particularity  (a)  from  the  material 
object,  which  is  particular.  They  are  concerned  only 
with  a  restricted  section  of  the  corporeal  world.  Botany, 
for  instance,  has  nothing  to  do  with  economic  wealth. 
(6)  From  their  formal  object,  which,  in  consequence  of 
what  we  have  just  said,  cannot  be  grasped  or  abstracted 
from  all  reality,  but  only  from  a  more  or  less  restricted 
section  of  it. 

But  the  detailed  study  of  the  sensible  world  by  sec- 
tions does  not  satisfy  the  mind.  After  the  details,  we 
seek  for  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  whole,  and  this 

139 


140  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

can  only  be  furnished  by  philosophy.  The  man  of 
science  is  like  a  stranger  who  explores  a  city  bit  by  bit, 
and  walks  through  its  streets,  avenues,  parks,  museums 
and  buildings  one  after  another.  When  at  length  he 
has  wandered  over  the  city  in  all  directions,  there  still 
remains  another  way  of  becoming  acquainted  with  it: 
from  the  top  of  a  tower,  the  city  would  present  to  him 
another  aspect,  —  its  divisions,  its  general  plan,  and 
the  relative  disposition  of  its  parts.  The  philosopher 
is  just  such  a  man:  he  views  the  world  from  above  as 
it  were,  and  tries  to  realize  its  general  structure,  for 
philosophy  is  a  generalized  knowledge  of  things,  a  syn- 
thetic view  of  that  material  world  of  which  alone  we  have 
direct  and  proper  knowledge,  and  then  by  extension, 
of  all  that  is  or  can  be  (III,  2).  It  is  human  wisdom 
(sapientia),  science  par  excellence.  This  general  science 
or  philosophy  constitutes  the  second  stage  of  knowledge. 

In  contrast  to  the  particular  sciences,  philosophy 
derives  its  generality,  (a)  from  its  material  object, — 
which  is  all  that  exists  or  can  exist. 

The  man  who  takes  in,  by  a  single  glance,  the  whole 
of  a  city  from  the  top  of  his  tower  does  not  exclude  any 
part  from  his  regard,  but  he  only  looks  for  the  general 
aspect  of  the  whole,  that  which  belongs  to  all  and  not 
merely  to  some  of  its  parts.  In  the  same  way  philosophy, 
instead  of  dealing  with  only  one  department  of  reality, 
takes  in  all  the  real. 

(6)  From  its  formal  object  which  consists  of  points  of 
view  that  affect  and  are  found  in  all  reality.  Indeed 
these  comprehensive  views  are  possible  only  because 
the  mind  seizes  in  the  immensity  of  reality  certain  as- 
pects which  are  present  everywhere  and  in  everything, 
and  which  in  consequence  belong  to  the  very  essence 


DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY  141 

of  reality.  Philosophy  is  defined  as  the  investigation 
of  all  things  by  means  of  that  which  is  fundamental  in 
them  and  common  to  all.  Sapientia  est  scientia  quae 
considerat  primas  et  universales  causas.^ 

In  other  words,  philosophy  is  a  science  which  co- 
ordinates or  makes  a  synthesis,  for  the  materials  it 
studies  and  the  point  of  view  from  which  it  studies 
them  are  both  characterized  by  generality.  What  are 
these  general  and  comprehensive  points  of  view  or 
aspects  which  the  human  mind  discovers  in  its  study 
of  the  universe.^  This  question  brings  us  to  the  divi- 
sion of  philosophy. 

II.  Division  of  Philosophy.  Starting  from  a  well-known 
classification  of  Aristotle,  Thomas  remarks  that  philo- 
sophical sciences  admit  of  a  first  subdivision  into  theo- 
retical and  practical.  The  human  mind  (for  all  science, 
as  we  have  seen,  is  a  work  of  the  mind)  can  come  into 
contact  with  the  real  in  general,  or,  as  it  was  then 
called,  the  '  universal  order,'  in  two  ways.  In  the  first 
place  we  may  study  this  universal  order  such  as  it  is  in 
and  for  itself  {deoopetv,  to  consider),  and  look  for  its 
general  features,  without  subordinating  this  knowledge 
to  ourselves.  This  constitutes  speculative  or  theoretic 
philosophy,  the  end  of  which  is  knowledge  for  its  own 
sake.  Or,  in  the  second  place  one  may  study  the  uni- 
versal order  of  things  not  as  such,  but  in  so  far  as  it 
enters  into  relation  with  our  conscious  life  (knowing, 
willing,  producing).  It  is  in  this  sense  that  this  part  of 
philosophy  is  called  practical  {irpaTTtiv,  to  act). 

Each  of  these  two  groups  admits  of  further  sub- 
division.    Speculative    philosophy    comprises    Physics 

1  In  Meta-ph.,  I,  lect  2. 


142  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

(in  the  Aristotelian  sense)/  Mathematics,  Metaphysics. 
Practical  philosophy  includes  Logic,  Moral  Philosophy, 
Esthetics.  Let  us  consider  these  various  classifications 
in  the  light  of  the  scholastic  teaching  concerning  the 
construction  of  the  sciences. 

III.  Speculative  Philosophy.  The  division  of  specula- 
tive philosophy  into  Physics,  Mathematics,  Meta- 
physics does  not  correspond  to  three  separate  sections 
of  being  in  the  universe,^  but  results  from  the  varying 
profundity  of  point  of  view  or  degree  of  abstraction 
with  which  we  study  the  totality  of  things.  Physics, 
mathematics,  and  metaphysics,  all  study  the  material 
universe  as  a  whole,  but  each  studies  a  particular 
aspect  of  all  reality,  change,  quantity,  and  being, 
respectively. 

(a)  Physics.  Everything  is  carried  along  on  the 
stream  of  change,  which  the  Schoolmen  called  motus 
(from  moveri) .  The  study  of  change  in  its  inmost  nature 
and  in  its  implications  is  the  first  step  in  a  general 
understanding  of  the  universe.  It  is  the  task  which 
belongs  to  Physics  or  to  the  philosophy  of  nature. 
Since  man  forms  part  of  the  world  of  sense  reality, 
psychology  is  a  department  of  physics,  and  the  episte- 
mological  inquiry  belongs  to  psychology. 

{b)  Mathematics.  But  there  is  in  the  sensible  uni- 
verse something  more  profound  than  change,  —  namely, 
quantity.  For  every  change  is  closely  bound  up  with 
conditions  of  time  and  space  in  which  the  change  takes 

1  From  <t>v(ns,  nature.  Not  to  be  confused  with  "Physics"  in  the  modern 
sense,  which  is  a  particular  science. 

2  As  in  the  division  introduced  by  Wolf,  for  whom  speculative  philosophy 
concerns  itself  with  (a)  nature  other  than  man,  i.e..  Cosmology,  (6)  man, 
(Psychology),  (c)  God,  i.e..  Natural  Theology  or  Theodicy.  Wolf  reserves 
the  name  Metaphysics  for  considerations  common  to  all  three  groups. 


DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY  143 

place,  while  quantity,  on  the  contrary,  as  studied  in 
numbers  and  geometric  figures,  is  grasped  apart  from  the 
sensible  condition  of  real  quantified  beings.  Mathe- 
matics, which  studies  quantity  and  its  implications, 
is  for  the  Schoolmen  a  general  and  therefore  a  philo- 
sophical science, — a  conception  to  which  contemporary 
mathematicians  tend  to  return. 

(c)  Metaphysics.  Lastly,  beyond  change  and  quan- 
tity, metaphysics  seizes  in  the  things  of  experience  the 
most  profound  aspects  of  reality,  the  strata  which 
underlie  all  the  others:  being  and  the  general  deter- 
minations of  being  such  as  essence,  existence,  substance, 
unity,  goodness,  action,  totality,  causality,  etc.  These 
most  general  aspects  of  reality  themselves  constitute 
a  synthetic  view  of  the  material  universe.  But  while 
change,  which  implies  duration  in  time,  and  while 
quantity,  which  is  the  primary  attribute  of  bodies, 
depends  on  the  material  state  of  the  universe,  this  state 
is  not  essential  to  the  notion  of  being  or  those  other 
ideas  which  are  correlative  to  it.  If  there  should  be 
suprasensible  beings,  such  as  God,  or  the  soul,  then 
these  metaphysical  notions  would  be  applicable  to 
them,  with  certain  necessary  corrections.  In  this  way 
natural  theology  and  the  non-experimental  part  of 
scholastic  psychology  really  form  part  of  metaphysics. 

IV.  Practical  Philosophy  is  equally  general  in  character, 
since  through  our  conscious  powers  of  knowing,  willing, 
and  producing  we  enter  into  relation  with  all  reality. 
This  general  category  includes  logic,  moral  philosophy 
or  ethics,  and  the  |)hilosophy  of  art  or  esthetics.  Logic 
draws  up  a  scheme  of  all  that  we  know,  and  the  method 
of  constructing  the  sciences;    as  there  is  nothing  that 


144  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

the  human  mind  cannot  know  in  some  imperfect  way, 
logic  is  a  general  science.  Ethics,  again,  studies  the 
realm  of  human  conduct,  and  there  is  nothing  in  human 
life  that  cannot  become  the  subject  of  morality.  It  is 
to  be  noted  that  politics  and  domestic  ethics  are,  like 
individual  ethics,  merely  applications  of  general  moral 
philosophy.  The  philosophy  of  art  deals  with  the  order 
achieved  by  man  externally  through  the  guidance  of 
reason,  as  when,  for  example,  "he  builds  a  house,  or 
makes  a  piece  of  furniture."  Philosophy  of  art  here 
includes  the  study  of  the  mechanical  as  well  as  the 
fine  arts. 

It  is  easy  to  realize  that  we  have  adopted  this  phil- 
osophical classification  in  the  preceding  chapters  of  this 
book.^ 

Particular  sciences  precede  philosophy,  and  the  latter 
must  be  in  a  sense  based  upon  them.    The  programme 

1  As  for  mathematics,  and  the  controversies  of  the  thirteenth  centm"y 
concerning  numbers,  quantity,  mathematical  infinity,  and  so  on,  a  clear 
understanding  of  these  questions  is  not  essential  to  our  present  aim,  and  we 
therefore  pass  over  them  in  silence.  It  will  be  noticed  that  in  the  above 
classification  the  philosophy  of  art  is  placed  in  the  group  of  practical  sciences. 
We  might,  however,  regard  it  instead  as  a  third  and  separate  group,  corre- 
sponding to  the  poetical  sciences  of  Aristotle. 

The  following  is  a  schematic  table  of  the  scholastic  classification  of  the 
sciences: 

A.  Particular  or  experimental  sciences, 

B.  General  or  philosophical  sciences : 

1.  Theoretical: 

(a)  Physics  (in  the  ancient  meaning  of  the  term)  of  Philosophy  of 

that  which  changes,  including  Psychology. 
(6)  Mathematics:  philosophy  of  quantity, 
(c)   Metaphysics:  philosophy  of  being. 

2.  Practical: 

(a)  Moral  Philosophy,  individual  and  social. 
(6)  Logic, 
(c)   Esthetics. 


DIVISIONS  OF  PHILOSOPHY  145 

of  the  Faculty  of  Arts  in  the  Universities  of  Paris  and 
Oxford  was  inspired  by  this  principle.  The  arrange- 
ment by  which  the  particular  sciences  form  the  thresh- 
old of  philosophy  gives  to  the  latter  an  experimental 
basis,  or,  as  we  should  say  today,  a  scientific  foundation. 
General  views  presuppose  particular  or  detailed  ones 
to  a  certain  extent. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DOCTRINAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCHOLASTICISM 

I.   Moderation  and  the  sense  of  limit. 
II.   Doctrinal  Coherence. 
III.   Philosophy  and  Catholic  Theology. 

I.  Moderation  and  the  sense  of  limit.  After  this  brief 
and  elementary  survey  of  the  principal  philosophical 
doctrines  of  Aquinas,  we  are  in  a  position  to  discern 
certain  characteristics  of  a  systematic  nature,  which 
become  evident  everywhere.  Two  of  these  character- 
istics strike  the  student  at  once:  moderation  and  the 
sense  of  limit;    coherence  and  interdependence. 

The  sense  of  measure  and  of  equilibrium  appears 
throughout,  because  Scholasticism  completes  the  natu- 
ralism of  Aristotle  with  the  aid  of  the  idealism  of  Plato 
and  St.  Augustine.  Thus  it  brings  together  what  is  best 
in  Greek  philosophy,  tempers  one  element  by  another, 
and  adapts  the  whole  to  the  mentality  of  Western  races. 

The  reader  will  easily  recognize  that  this  moderation 
was  to  be  found  in  the  first  doctrine  of  which  we  treated, 
the  theory  of  knowledge,  which  is  a  combination  of 
spiritualism  and  sensationalism.  The  abstract  idea  is 
grasped  in  the  sensation,  and  the  one  completes  the 
other.  The  moderate  realism  of  the  Schoolmen  is  a 
via  media  between  naive  realism  and  phenomenalism. 
Their  theory  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body  places  man 
in  an  intermediate  position  between  the  purely  spiritual 
and  the  purely  material.    The  limitation  of  actuality 

148 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCHOLASTICISM      147 

by  potentiality  and  of  form  by  matter  gives  us  a  moder- 
ate or  mitigated  dynamism;  for  the  active  or  dynamic 
principle  (form)  expands  into  a  passive  and  a  quanti- 
tative element  (matter),  and  thus  we  have  a  correction 
of  the  doctrine  of  pure  energy.  We  find  the  same  mod- 
eration in  Ethics,  in  which  intellectual  happiness  does 
not  exclude  the  reasonable  satisfaction  of  the  body, 
and  duty  is  harmonized  with  pleasure.  The  same  ap- 
pears in  social  philosophy  where  the  individual  good  is 
harmonized  with  the  w^ell-being  of  the  whole.  In  logic  de- 
ductive and  inductive  methods  assist  each  other  and  we 
could  multiply  similar  examples.  Its  sense  of  measure 
makes  scholasticism  an  eminently  human  philosophy. 

One  can  say  that  a  sense  of  proportion  in  all  things 
is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  neo-Latin  and  Anglo- 
Celtic  civilization  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  cen- 
turies, and  that  it  is  one  of  the  finest  heritages  which 
these  centuries  have  passed  on  to  modern  times.  ^ 

There  is  another  reason  for  the  great  spread  of 
thomism  in  the  west,  namely  its  doctrinal  cohesion. 

II.  Doctrinal  Coherence.  Without  doctrinal  coherence, 
no  philosophy  could  be  vigorous  or  satisfy  the  human 
mind  which  seeks  always  for  order  and  unity. 

From  this  point  of  view,  the  difference  which  exists 
between  the  Schoolmen  and  certain  modern  philosophers 
is  striking.  Kant,  for  example,  introduces  in  his  phi- 
losophy compartments  separated  by  tight  walls.  Science 
has  nothing  to  do  with  moral  conduct ;  private  conduct 
and  external  legal  relations  are  regulated  by  different 
principles.    Or  again,  a  man  like  Taine  does  not  con- 

'  See  Civilization  and  Philosophy  in  the  Middle  Ages,  Chap.  XIII,  "Phi- 
losophy and  National  Temperament  in  the  Thirteenth  Century." 


148  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

cern  himself  with  the  bearings  of  his  theory  of  reahty 
upon  his  moral  duties.  Similarly,  a  great  many  of  our 
contemporaries  split  their  lives  into  two  parts  —  just 
as  the  Greek  sceptics  declared  that  certainty  was  im- 
possible of  attainment,  in  theory,  and  yet  in  practice 
acted  as  if  they  possessed  certainty.  Many  men  declare 
themselves  unable  to  prove  the  existence  of  God,  and 
nevertheless  regard  his  existence  as  a  postulate,  neces- 
sary for  action. 

Nothing  is  more  painful  than  these  internal  disrup- 
tions, which  lead  one  to  say  that  what  is  true  and 
valuable  in  one  context  ceases  to  be  so  in  another. 
And  nothing  is  more  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  Thomisra. 
Here  we  are  face  to  face  with  a  system  or  a  doctrinal 
whole,  in  which  everything  is  necessary  for  the  rest. 
Truth,  for  Thomas,  cannot  contradict  truth;  and  a 
doctrine,  once  established  in  one  department,  has  valid- 
ity in  all  others. 

We  have  met  in  the  course  of  this  small  book  several 
instances  of  this  coherence.  Logic  is  closely  bound  to 
the  psychological  thesis  of  abstraction.  Solutions  of 
social  problems  rest  upon  the  value  of  the  personality. 
The  theories  of  actuality  and  potentiality,  of  causality 
and  of  teleology,  of  essence  and  existence  saturate  the 
whole  system.  Everywhere  we  detect  the  metaphysics, 
which  sustains  all.^ 

Among  the  doctrines  on  which  systematic  coherence 
depends,  there  are  three  which  are  of  fundamental  im- 
portance. They  resemble  the  pointed  form  which  is 
found  everywhere,  in  every  corner  and  feature  of  a 

1  The  reading  of  two  or  three  articles  of  the  two  Summae  of  Thomas  is 
suflBcient  to  show  that  the  subject  therein  treated  is  continually  referred  to 
and  harmonized  with  other  subjects,  and  given  its  proper  place  in  the  system 
as  a  whole. 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCHOLASTICISM      149 

Gothic  cathedral.  We  refer  to  the  intellectualism  of  the 
Schoohnen,  to  their  emphasis  of  the  value  of  human 
personality,  and  to  the  central  place  of  God. 

This  intellectualism,  of  which  Thomas  Aquinas  and 
Duns  Scotus  are  the  chief  representatives,  proclaims 
the  supremacy  of  reason.  To  know  is  the  noblest  of  the 
activities  of  a  conscious  being,  —  whether  it  be  God, 
a  limited  spirit  like  an  angel,  or  man.  We  apprehend 
reality  by  means  of  abstractions;  and  though  such  a 
mode  of  knowing  is  poor  and  restricted,  nevertheless 
it  is  man's  privilege,  and  raises  him  above  the  mere 
animal  kingdom.  If  one  looks  back  over  the  preceding 
chapters,  he  will  find  that  the  theory  of  abstract  con- 
cepts extends  throughout  thomistic  philosophy.  If  the 
abstract  character  of  concepts  were  denied  the  process 
of  judgment  would  become  inexplicable;  the  possibility 
of  science  or  general  laws  would  be  cut  off;  human 
liberty  would  become  an  illusion;  moral  ideals  which 
rest  upon  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God  would  vanish 
from  life;  even  social  life  would  change  its  character, 
for  the  entire  system  of  Government  is  necessary  only 
as  a  means  to  moral  happiness. 

The  second  fundamental  doctrine  is  the  value  of 
personality.  It  declares  each  man  to  be  an  autonomous 
being,  possessing  his  own  body  and  his  own  soul,  an 
agent  with  his  own  intelligence,  will,  and  powers  of 
action.  Substantial  or  natural  equality  of  men,  the 
right  to  individual  happiness,  the  protection  of  the 
person  from  the  state,  the  mission  of  the  state  with 
reference  to  the  individual,  personal  survival,  —  all  are 
applications  of  the  individualism  which  we  wish  to  em- 
phasize. Thomas  has  a  profound  aversion  for  anything 
resembling  sacrifice  of  personal  dignity  and  self-reliance. 


150  MEDIAEVAL  PHILOSOPHY 

Man  is  no  exception  to  the  general  metaphysical  rule 
that  only  individual  substances  exist  or  can  exist;  and 
God  Himself,  who  created  the  world,  is  an  Individual. 
Finally,  is  it  necessary  to  remark  that  God  is  found 
everywhere  in  the  system?  All  the  doctrines  converge 
towards  Him,  as  the  radii  of  a  circle  converge  towards 
the  center.  The  God  which  Aquinas  describes  is  not 
a  deus  ex  machina,  a  pure  product  of  reason,  a  meta- 
physical storehouse  for  Platonic  Ideas.  He  is  Infinite 
Life,  and  it  is  the  divine  life  which  gives  a  meaning  to 
human  life.  For,  God  presents  himself  to  man  as  the 
sole  object  worthy  of  his  knowledge  and  love.  An 
immutable  and  eternal  relation  exists  between  God  and 
human  nature  {lex  aeterna) ;  and  man,  in  recognizing  the 
bonds  which  attach  him  to  God,  knows  by  this  very 
act  in  what  way  he  must  direct  his  conduct  to  reach 
God.  Family  life,  cooperation  of  the  individuals  in  the 
social  group,  natural  religion  are  means  which  aid 
the  ascent  of  the  human  soul  toward  the  Infinite.  For 
the  philosophers  of  the  thirteenth  century  life  is  worth 
living,  and  all  humanity  moves  forward  toward  hap- 
piness. 

Ill,  Philosophy  mid  Catholic  Theology.  No  one  has  em- 
phasized the  distinction  between  reason  and  faith  to  a 
greater  extent  than  Thomas  (XVI,  4).  The  one  is  not 
the  other.  But  reason  leads  to  faith,  philosophy  to 
theology.  If  Christian  revelation  is  an  historical  fact — 
and  no  one  doubted  it  in  the  West,  at  that  time  — 
philosophy  reaches  its  culmination  in  theology.  The 
life  of  the  Christian  appears  as  a  more  complete  ap- 
proach to  God,  the  Being  before  whom  all  others  are 
as  if  they  were  not.   What  Christian  faith  promises  is  a 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  SCHOLASTICISM      151 

blessed  vision,  in  which  God  reveals  Himself  to  the 
soul,  no  longer  in  the  pale  images  of  the  world  of  sense, 
but  as  He  is. 

Thus  at  once,  the  meaning  of  individual  ethics  and 
social  philosophy  changes.  Life  becomes  a  pilgrimage 
(via)  toward  our  true  fatherland  {patria);  duty  done 
through  the  love  of  Christ  takes  on  a  higher  value; 
the  purely  human  ideal  vanishes  before  the  ideal  of  the 
Beatitudes  and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount;  social  life  is 
illuminated  by  the  love  of  the  other  souls  redeemed  by 
Christ.  Art  itself  becomes  a  symbol  of  the  divine,  and 
for  Francis  of  Assisi,  for  Giotto,  for  the  master  builders 
of  cathedrals,  as  well  as  for  Dante,  it  appears  as  a  way 
which  leads  the  living  generations  toward  heavenly 
immortality. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

GiLsoN,  E.:  Le  Thomisme.   Introduction  au  systeme  de  S.  Thomas 
d'Aquin.   Strasbourg,  1920. 

Grabmann,  M.  :  Thomas  vou  Aquiu.     Eine  Einfuhrung  in   seine 
Personlichkeit  und  Gedankenwelt.   MUnchen,  1912. 

Mercier,  Nys,  DeWulf.    A  Manual  of  Modern  Scholastic  Philos- 
ophy.   London,  1917.    2  vols. 

Sertill.\nges,  A.  D.:    Thomas  d'Aquin.     (Collection  Les  Grands 
Philosophes.)    Paris,  1910. 

SertilLu^nges,  a.  D.  :  La  pliilosophie  morale  de  S.  Thomas  d'Aquin. 
(Collection  historique  des  Grands  Philosophes.)   Paris,  1916. 

ScHUTZ,  L.:   Thomas  Lexicon.   Paderborn,  1881. 


]fl;i 


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